


Off Balance

by LicieOIC, lunarsilverwolfstar



Series: The MovieVerse AU's [2]
Category: Center Stage (2000), Doctor Who, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Ballet, Ballet, Dancing, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Mild Language, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-13
Updated: 2014-05-27
Packaged: 2018-01-24 16:17:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 24,223
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1611488
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LicieOIC/pseuds/LicieOIC, https://archiveofourown.org/users/lunarsilverwolfstar/pseuds/lunarsilverwolfstar
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rose is over the moon when she's accepted into the prestigious Gallifrey Ballet Academy. She has a single term to prove herself and try to earn a spot in their company. She meets one of their dancers, a cocky man who calls himself 'the Doctor' (because it sounds more impressive), and despite her vow to not let him distract her, sparks fly on the dance floor and off.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This was inspired by the picture below and "what if Eleven really could dance well and wasn't just the Drunken Giraffe?" Silver was wonderful to agree to help me, because otherwise I wasn't confident I'd get Eleven's voice right.
> 
> This is an AU of the movie "Center Stage," written by Carol Heikkinen.

_Miracles really can happen,_ was the one thought going through Rose Tyler’s head as she stared down at her acceptance letter to the Gallifrey Ballet Academy. She’d auditioned for years, but had never gotten in. They’d always told her she was technically behind the other dancers. So a miracle was the only explanation.

Getting into GBA was just the first step, but it was a big one. Dancers were taught by the best in the business and at the end of the term, a workshop was held, performed for the heads of all the big dance companies. Being featured in the workshop usually meant a job offer, so even if a dancer wasn’t given a spot in the Gallifrey Ballet Company, or GBC, the chances were still good that they could get placed somewhere else.

GBC was an institution in London, founded so many years ago that no one was really sure anymore of the exact date. Rose had walked by many times on her way to dance class, which her mother had scrimped and saved for.

“You’re worth it,” Jackie had insisted when Rose was old enough to understand how difficult finances were for a single parent. “You dance like an angel.”

Rose devoured every dance program she could find on telly and by renting DVDs, since they couldn’t afford to go to a live show. She sat in rapt attention, watching famous dancers twirl on their toes like it took no effort at all. And the best dancers always came from GBC, so Rose’s dream was to be one of GBA’s perfect ballerinas.

As she got out of her taxi on the first day of classes, she looked up at the tall imposing building, her heart pounding in her throat. It felt like the first day of the rest of her life.

She was pulled out of her thoughts by the taxi driver, who wanted to get on his way, so she paid him and shouldered her tote bag, then struggled with jerking her larger suitcase out of the cab. It seemed to be wedged behind the front seat.

A long arm reached past her, grasping the handle of the bag. “Allow me,” said a light voice. The arm lifted the suitcase from the taxi’s interior like it weighed nothing, setting it on the curb a moment later. The cab drove away, the rush of air blowing Rose’s hair in her face.

Sweeping the blonde mass out of her eyes, she followed the arm resting on her suitcase up to the face it belonged to and found herself staring into the greenest set of eyes she’d ever seen. She about swallowed her tongue when she realized that the man who’d helped her was the Doctor.

His real name was John Smith, but he insisted that everyone call him ‘the Doctor’ because it “sounded more impressive.” At least, that was the reason he gave in all his telly interviews. He was a former graduate of GBA, a current member of GBC, one of the most talented dancers working today, and absolutely _gorgeous_.

He brushed his floppy light brown fringe out of his eyes and offered her a charming smile. “New here?” he asked, drumming his long fingers on top of her suitcase.

“Um, yes,” she said, her voice squeaking a little, aware that her cheeks were heating up.

He tilted his head at the building. “Need help finding your way around?”

“No,” she said, not wanting to embarrass herself any further.

His eyes widened slightly in surprise. “No?” he repeated, as though he wasn’t used to hearing the word directed at him.

She cleared her throat and smiled at him. “That is… no, thank you,” she clarified.

He lifted his light eyebrows at her, almost as if he was impressed. “All right.” He backed away with a little bow, keeping his eyes on her for a few seconds longer, then swiveled around, almost in a half-pirouette, and headed up the steps, a dark blue motorcycle helmet in his hand.

When he disappeared inside, Rose felt her breath come back in a rush. She’d known that she’d get to see company members while she was at GBA, but what were the odds that she’d get to meet the Doctor on the very first day!

* * *

When Rose finally found her dorm room, her first suite mate was already there and had claimed the top bunk. Rose didn’t mind, she had a phobia of rolling over in her sleep, falling out, and breaking her neck. The athletic-looking girl with eyes like espresso and skin like cocoa turned from the dresser where she’d been putting away some of her clothes and smiled, holding out her hand to introduce herself.

“Hi, I’m Martha.”

Rose tossed her tote bag on the bottom bunk and took Martha’s hand. “Rose. Nice to meet you. I’m new here.”

“Oh, good,” said Martha in obvious relief. “I’m not the only one who doesn’t know anybody.”

That brought to mind Rose’s run-in downstairs. She leaned against the bed, lowering her voice conspiratorially, even though they were the only two in the room. “Know who I met outside? The Doctor!”

Martha’s eyebrows lifted, her dark eyes sparkling with interest. “Yeah? Was he as cocky in real life as he seems on telly?”

Rose giggled. “I don’t know. It just freaks me out that we’ll be seeing people like him around all the time.”

“You get used to it,” came a new voice, and both girls turned to see the third member of their triple suite enter, dragging a suitcase behind her. She had long, dark brown hair and a perfect dancer’s body, though she was a bit on the short side. She put her purse on the single bed and turned to Rose and Martha, clasping her hands in front of herself. “I’m Clara. I guess I’m living with you guys.”

“Don’t sound so excited,” Martha muttered, turning back to the dresser to resume her task.

Rose offered Clara a smile and stepped forward to shake her hand. “I’m Rose, this is Martha.”

“Nice to meet you,” said Clara.

“I thought I might have a walk around, meet some people,” said Rose. “Either of you interested?”

“Not me,” said Clara, who lifted her suitcase onto her bed and unzipped it. “It’s a waste of time.”

Though her tone was more matter-of-fact than intentionally hurtful, it made both of the other girls blink in surprise. “Excuse me?” asked Martha, who put one hand on her hip.

“I don’t say it to be mean,” said Clara. “But I’ve been coming here for nine years.” She said it like the audition process meant nothing to her. “And the favorites are already picked at the beginning of the term. You’ll need a miracle to get selected for GBC.”

Considering Rose had probably used up her miracle just to get into GBA, the thought was crushing. Martha put her arm around her shoulders, and Rose was grateful for the friendly contact. Martha glared at Clara and said, “Come on, Rose. I think it’s a brilliant idea to meet some _other_ people.”

The two of them walked out of their room, leaving Clara to unpack.

“Don’t worry about her,” said Martha. “Everyone gets to be in the workshop, so even if what she says is true about GBC, other companies will see us.”

“Yeah,” said Rose, still somewhat glum. It was obvious that getting a featured part in the workshop was important, because you were more likely to get seen if you were out in front and not stuck in the back of the corps. She determined right then and there that she was going to work harder than she ever had during this term. She wasn’t going to waste her chance.

They ended up meeting a couple of guys in their same hall, Mickey Smith, a handsome young black man with well-muscled arms who started flirting with Martha right away, and Jake Simmonds, a baby-faced spiky haired blond who kept talking about his boyfriend in Wales. He hissed in a sympathetic breath when Rose and Martha revealed that they were rooming with Clara.

“I feel bad for you two, stuck living with her,” he said.

“You know her?” asked Martha.

Jake nodded. “I’ve gotten in here for four years, everyone knows her.”

“Big bitch?”

“Biggest bitch. But she plays it off like sass so it’s not like she’s said something _wrong_ , and _we’re_ the ones being over-sensitive.” He rolled his eyes. “And of course, she has the best technique in GBA, but she would, she’s been here since she’s been in pointe shoes.”

Rose and Martha exchanged a look, instantly deciding that they’d depend on each other to survive Hurricane Clara. Rose was just glad to have made some friends so quickly. It was nice not to feel alone, ready to be swallowed by the daunting task ahead of her.

* * *

Martha and Rose spent the last couple of hours before their first class breaking in their new pointe shoes. Everyone had a technique they preferred. Rose liked to smack her shoes on the bannister of the stairs. Martha closed her shoes in the heavy stairwell door and carefully bent them back. Then they sat down together and sewed in the ribbons by hand.

Rose liked hearing about Martha’s large family. Growing up an only child, she’d always envied people with brothers and sisters. Martha told her it was a pain in the arse, everyone was always fighting and could never agree on anything. She was jealous of Rose’s upbringing, particularly the fact that she’d never had to share a bedroom. They both decided it was a ‘grass is greener’ thing.

After warming up, everyone stood in loose groups nervously as Donna Noble entered the practice room. Donna had been one of GBC’s famed ballerinas. Her best years behind her, she’d turned to teaching at GBA. She wore a long black dancer’s skirt and shoes with a low heel, the soles designed to allow her to walk on a dance floor without scuffing it. Her purple wrap top complimented her fiery red hair, which was pulled back into a smart bun.

Standing in the center of all the young hopefuls, she crossed her arms and looked at them, her sharp blue eyes missing nothing. “Would the new students raise their hands, please?” They did, Rose and Martha among them. “And which of you was the best dancer in the last class you took?” Everyone looked around at each other, chuckling nervously. Donna quirked a half-smile. “Come on.” Many of the gathered students raised their hands. Donna took a deep breath with the attitude of someone who has said something many times.

“It’s something, isn’t it? Being the best. Having teachers that dote on you, having other students come to you for help. Now, here you are at GBA and whether or not you admit it, you start thinking that soon you’ll be performing the Swan Queen before full houses at all the best theaters.” She tilted her head on a slight sigh. “I hate saying this every year, but for most of you… that will never happen. I tell you this to help you clarify your expectations for this term. If you work hard, and I mean, harder than you ever have in your life, then this school will turn you into the best dancer you can possibly be. But no one ever said that your best was necessarily good enough. The best you can be may or may not be the kind of dancer Jack has room for in the company. At most, he’ll accept three and three. Three boys, three girls. We will all be watching you carefully over the coming months, but no decisions will be made until you dance in the workshop at the end of the year. It won’t be easy, because you’re all very talented, and no, I don’t need to see you dance to know that. You wouldn’t be here if you weren’t. I want to thank you for bringing your gifts to this school and let’s have a good year, shall we?”

Rose blew out a breath. Well. That was… less than inspiring. But she knew that Donna was just helping them to be realistic. Martha looked at her and lifted her eyebrows, probably thinking the same thing.

“One more thing,” Donna added, lifting a finger to forestall any talking. “Next week is our company gala. We always invite our advanced students to attend and then help at the party afterward. You will all be expected to be there.”

During barre work, Donna noticed Rose. Her heart pounded as Donna watched Rose’s form for a moment, then she walked over and stood next to her, crossing her arms and looking at the girl’s feet. “What’s your name, dear?” she asked.

“Rose Tyler,” she answered, stopping her movement to give the teacher her full attention.

Donna pointed at Rose’s toes. “Concentrate on your turnout. From the hip.”

Rose bit her lip and nodded as Donna moved away. It was what all her teachers had told her. She suspected it was what had kept her from getting into GBA before. Of course Donna would notice, it was her _job_ to notice. Rose leaned out from the hip and forced her toes to turn outward just a _little_ more. Hopefully, it was something she could overcome this year.

After the barre exercise, Donna used Clara to demonstrate proper form. For all that the girl clearly wasn’t there to make friends and Jake had already warned them about her attitude, Rose couldn’t deny that Clara was aces at ballet. All her years at GBA really showed. Problem was, Clara knew it, too.

Rose’s anxiety continued to grow as they did cross-floor exercises, leaping across the length of the room. Donna advised as she saw fit, telling the girls to extend their legs and to land softer. While trying to keep her mind on her form, Rose accidentally overshot her landing and bumped into a blonde girl, who scowled at her.

“Watch where you’re going!” she snapped, her voice tinged with a French accent. “They don’t offer collision insurance here!” She stomped off, remarking to one of her friends in Rose’s earshot, “Who let that disaster in here?”

Martha took Rose’s hand and gave it a friendly squeeze. Rose looked at her in embarrassment.

“I swear, I’m better than this,” she said. “I’m just so nervous.”

“Don’t worry,” said Martha. “It’s only the first day. Nothing counts on the first day, right?”

Clara breezed past them. “Everything counts here.”

Rose pressed a hand to her stomach, willing the butterflies to calm down. She was incredibly grateful when break time rolled around. She and Martha went out to one of the common areas to sit with a few others in their class. Clara and the blonde girl, Reinette, were also there, but they were content to remain on the fringes. Reinette, like Clara, had also been a regular at GBA for many years.

Movement down the hall caught Rose’s eye and she gaped, then nudged Martha. “Hey, look who it is!”

A tall, willowy woman with long red hair passed by their group. She turned soft hazel eyes on them and smiled. “Hello, girls. Clara. Reinette.”

“Hello, Amy,” Clara answered, casually, with a little wave. The other girls gawked at her, like she’d just said ‘hey’ to the Queen.

“Wasn’t that Amelia Pond?” asked Rose in an awed voice.

“Yep,” said Clara, with a hint of smugness.

Of course, Amelia would be familiar with the perennial favorite. To the new girls, it was like knowing royalty. Amelia Pond was the current lead ballerina for GBC and a frequent dance partner of the Doctor. Rose watched along with the others as the redhead disappeared around a corner.

“God, she’s beautiful,” Rose breathed.

Martha wrinkled her nose. “Well, I think she looks kind of like a chipmunk.” Rose burst into laughter and Martha grinned. “What? She does! See those round cheeks?”

“She must be back from her honeymoon,” said Clara. “She’d just taken a hiatus to get married.”

“Oh, right,” said Reinette. “Isn’t her husband in nursing or something?”

“Uh huh,” said Clara. “It was a big thing, because all the tabs though she was with the Doctor.”

“You mean they weren’t… you know?” asked Rose.

She rolled her eyes. “Please. They’ve said in interviews that they’ve been best friends since forever. Whenever they have to do a stage kiss, he wipes his mouth as soon as he’s offstage because he says it’s like kissing his sister. Like this.” She demonstrated wiping her mouth on her arm in a big, exaggerated fashion. “It’s pretty funny to watch, actually.”

“There was a scandal with the Doctor this summer, though, while Amy was gone, right?” said Reinette.

“Right,” said Clara. “With Amy’s replacement dancer.”

“What happened?” asked Martha.

“This girl, River, she took Amy’s place in the company while she was off on her honeymoon,” Clara explained. “The Doctor fell hard and fast for her, and then, out of nowhere, she tells him she’s leaving him for this producer bloke. He never even had a hint that anything was wrong. The Doctor threw a huge hit right in the middle of rehearsal, called her all sorts of names, and stormed out. No one could believe it. Then he dragged his poor, broken heart to America to dance for the season.”

“And rumor has it he drowned himself in liquor every night and flirted with anything in tights,” finished Reinette. “And when I say _flirt_ , I mean…” She lifted her eyebrows meaningfully and the other girls tittered.

“He’s back, you know,” said Clara. “I heard some of the blokes talking. They’ve seen him around the school, but he hasn’t spoken to anyone.”

“He talked to me,” said Rose.

Everyone looked at her, surprise written on their faces.

“What?” said Clara.

Rose swallowed and twirled her small stud earring in nervousness. “He, um, he helped me with my bags when I got here,” she said. “That’s all.”

“Hmm,” said Reinette, her steely blue eyes narrowing slightly. “Well, you’d better hope that’s all. That man is damaged goods. None of us need a distraction like him.”

Rose nodded along with everyone else, knowing Reinette was right. She couldn’t afford to give up any of her concentration. She was having a hard enough time getting the memory of beautiful green eyes and a boyish smile out of her head.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rose works her tail off, and is still dealt some hard truths about her dancing. Martha decides it's time for some fun, and the Doctor has the solution.

 

Rose could hardly contain her excitement at the end of the week. She and the other advanced students were supposed to help out at the benefit party to raise money for GBC, but beforehand, they were allowed to sit in the balcony section of the theater and watch the company perform. Having never seen a live performance, at least one where she wasn’t dancing as well, Rose was fit to burst.

There were three sections being performed that evening. The first starred Amelia as Princess Aurora with her four suitors, performing the famous Rose Adagio, one of the most notoriously difficult sequences in all of ballet. She had to remain poised on one toe, her other leg held aloft, as she switched hands with her partners. She did it gracefully, seemingly without effort, her sweet smile never changing.

Next was an ensemble piece from _Swan Lake_ , featuring four girls as the young swans, dancing in complete and perfect accord. They held hands and danced in a tight formation, just the way little swans do. Every motion of their heads and legs and feet were synchronized exactly, like clockwork.

Lastly, Amelia and the Doctor performed the famous balcony scene from _Romeo and Juliet_. The Doctor’s juliant leaps and turns before Amelia joined him onstage were breathtaking. Rose was certain he had to have wings somewhere, because he seemed to hover for a split second at the peak of each jump before coming back down to the stage. The strength he had displayed when he’d lifted Rose’s suitcase from the cab was even more evident in the dance, as he lifted Amelia high above him in a gorgeous moon-shaped hold. Despite what Clara had said about the Doctor and Amelia, they were the picture of young love, seemingly enraptured by the other. It spoke volumes for their acting abilities. Utterly under their spell, Rose had tears in her eyes as the two dancers shared a passionate kiss at the conclusion of the number.

As the curtain fell, the applause was deafening. Rose clapped until her hands stung.

The rich and the affluent gathered in the foyer after the performance, eager to meet the dancers. The dancers changed into their fancy clothes, wiped off their stage makeup, and layered on deodorant, wanting to make good impressions on the people who held the checkbooks.

Rose and Martha weaved through the crowd, carrying decorated baskets of Amelia’s old pointe shoes. Martha wrinkled her nose.

“I can’t believe people actually buy this crap,” she said.

“It’s signed by Amelia Pond,” Rose pointed out.

“It’s a smelly old shoe!” said Martha. She was right. No amount of Febreeze could _completely_ remove the odor of countless rehearsals and performances.

* * *

The Doctor plastered a bland smile on his face, murmuring appropriate thanks as people came and went, telling him what a brilliant job he’d done in the performance. He sipped a glass of champagne, absently wishing it was something a bit stronger. He hadn’t thought it would hurt so much to be back at GBC. Angrily, he thought it _shouldn’t_ hurt so much, it was only a couple of months that he’d been with River, but she’d woven him around her little finger so completely, then stomped on his heart so utterly, he’d left the country out of sheer self-preservation.

He was glad to have friends like Amy and Jack and Donna, who all talked him into coming home and performing with the company again. Get right back on the horse. Maybe eventually he wouldn’t see her face around every corner.

Jack materialized at his elbow with a charming smile, which usually meant he wanted something. “Can I steal you away for a moment?” he asked. The Doctor refrained from rolling his eyes and gamely followed the head of the company through the crowd. Sotto voce, Jack said, “There’s a widowed woman here worth two hundred million pounds and she adores you. I want to introduce you to her.”

“You being my pimp,” said the Doctor. “Now, why does this feel so wrong and yet… so expected at the same time?”

“Behave,” said Jack. “It’s just saying hello. And it would be great for the company.”

“Oh, _well_ , if it’s for the company,” said the Doctor, straightening his bow tie officiously. “Sign me up. You know me, team player all the way.”

Jack gave him a look of warning, then smiled as he steered the Doctor over to an elegantly dressed older woman with brown hair, just beginning to gray. Her bright blue eyes lit up when she saw him.

“Sarah Jane Smith, may I introduce John Smith,” said Jack, gesturing between the two of them.

“Please, call me the Doctor,” he said, leaning in and giving her two air kisses.

“Well, this is an honor,” she gushed, her cheeks pink with pleasure. “I am absolutely your biggest fan.”

“And my loveliest,” he said, smiling.

“I’ve already told Amelia, but I have to tell you, that _Romeo and Juliet_ , what a delight!” she said. “I think you’re the finest Romeo the ballet world has ever seen.” She glanced at Jack and smiled. “Since Jack himself, of course.”

“Oh, I don’t do anything,” said the Doctor. “It’s all Amy. That girl is magic, compressed in a tutu.”

“What were you doing way over in America when everyone loves you so much here?” she asked. “I was devastated when I learned you weren’t in any performances over the summer.”

“You mean you didn’t hear all the goss?” he asked, keeping his tone light for Jack’s sake. “I was nursing a broken heart. Scorned lover and all that.”

Sarah Jane’s expression fell to one of sympathy. “Oh, I’m so sorry!”

“Not at all,” he said, reassuring her. “I’m all right. I’m the King of All Right.” He wrinkled his nose. “Actually, no, don’t call me that. Rubbish title. Let’s just stick with ‘the Doctor,’ shall we?” Sarah Jane chuckled, which had been his goal. At least, he sounded more fine than he felt. Sometimes his acting impressed even him.

Sarah Jane was suddenly bumped into from behind and he put out a hand to grasp her elbow, keeping her steady. One of the students selling Amy’s old shoes and tiaras had knocked into her as she tried to avoid one of the waiters carrying a tray of appetizers. She looked familiar… Wasn’t she the girl he’d seen on the first day? The one who’d declined his help? She looked lovely this evening, in a sky blue sheath dress and her hair in light waves around her face. A face which drained of color as she saw whom she’d run into.

“God, I’m sorry!” she exclaimed.

“No harm done,” said Sarah Jane, good-naturedly.

Jack, seeing an opportunity to extend the widow’s knowledge of where her money was going, gestured to the girl and said, “This is one of our advanced students, Sarah Jane.” He looked at the blonde, his face blank as he fumbled the introduction by not knowing her name.

“Rose Tyler,” she supplied with a nervous smile.

“Sorry,” said Jack, turning a sheepish grin to Sarah Jane. “We have so many gifted students, it’s hard to keep track of them all.”

“Blimey, I’m glad I don’t manage a company,” said the Doctor. “The moment I am so stressed I can’t remember the name of a beautiful girl, that’s when it’s time to retire.” Sarah Jane smacked his arm, telling him never to say such a thing, but the Doctor was still looking at Rose. “Don’t worry, Rose Tyler,” he said, deliberately using her first and last name. “I won’t forget.”

He winked at her and she blushed, hurrying away with her basket of wares. _Rose Tyler,_ he thought. _A lovely name for a lovely girl._ He should thank Jack for getting her to say it. Oh yes, he’d definitely remember her.

* * *

Rose ran into the ladies’ and set her basket down on the counter. She felt her warm cheeks and ran her hands under the faucet for some cool water then touched the back of her neck. Was she going to make a fool of herself _every_ time she ran into the Doctor? And in front of the head of the company, this time, too! She took some deep breaths, allowing her blush to fade. The girls were right, that man had to have bad juju or something. It only made her more resolved to avoid him.

She threw herself into her classes, working with single-minded determination. Even so, she still felt like the other girls were progressing leaps and bounds ahead of her, sometimes literally. Donna, Jack, and the other teachers were constantly on her about her turn-out. Weeks of work, and it was still not enough. She kept hearing Donna’s words from the first day in her head, “No one ever said your best was necessarily good enough.” What if she just wasn’t cut out to dance? The thought drove her to distraction, because she didn’t know what she would do if she couldn’t dance, she loved it, it was everything to her.

Jack, of course, noticed her preoccupation as her dancing suffered for it and called her into his office after class. She sat on the edge of his beige sofa, nervously fidgeting with her fingers.

“I know I wasn’t myself today,” she blurted out before he could say anything. “I couldn’t sleep last night, so I was really tired…”

Jack leaned against his desk, crossing his arms, frowning sadly. “It wasn’t just today, Rose,” he said, regretfully. “I see you three times a week and you’re not improving.”

“I’ll work harder!” she promised, but Jack shook his head.

“Regardless of your work, there are certain truths about you as a dancer that we both have to face. I’m talking to you about it now, rather than at the end of the year, because right now, you still have options.” He sighed. “First, you don’t have great feet, you’re not very turned out. Secondly, you’re a very pretty girl, but you don’t have an ideal dancer’s body.”

Rose knew that she was too curvy, but felt she should still stick up for herself, for something she was born with. “Romana Trelundar didn’t have great feet or a perfect dancer’s build.”

Jack smiled nostalgically. “When Romana Trelundar was onstage, you couldn’t take your eyes off of her. That’s not something that can be taught.” His smile faded as he looked at Rose’s downcast expression. “We’re casting for the workshop in two months, performing for three thousand people in four months. From what I’ve seen of you, I can’t cast you in it. And if you’re not onstage that day, you won’t get a job anywhere.”

She looked up with tears in her eyes. “So, what? Are you kicking me out?”

“No, sweetheart,” he said, sitting down next to her. He patted her back, sympathetically. “I just want you to think really hard, about whether or not being at GBA is the right fit for you.”

* * *

“Dick,” said Martha, flatly, when Rose told her what Jack had said later in their room.

Rose wiped her nose on her sleeve. “He was perfectly nice about it.”

“Being nice when you’re being a dick is even worse,” said Martha.

“What if he’s right?” said Clara, from atop her exercise ball where she was doing crunches. “You’re not like most of the girls here, your technique is miles from where it should be.”

“There’s more to being a great dancer than having perfect technique,” said Martha, glaring at Clara, who only rolled her eyes.

“Sure. Try dancing _Swan Lake_ without it and then get back to me.” She stopped exercising and sat up, looking at Rose with serious brown eyes. “Maybe if you put in an application now, you could get into a decent uni for the summer session.”

“I don’t _want_ to go to uni, if I did, I would have gotten my A-levels!” said Rose, beginning to get upset again. “I want to dance! That’s all I’ve ever wanted to do!”

Clara shook her head. “A lot of people want to dance, Rose, that’s the problem. You’re not special.”

“Ugh! Did you go to a special academy for being a bitch, or is that just natural?” Martha snapped at Clara.

Clara jumped up from the ball, putting her hands on her hips. “I’m being honest, I thought that’s what friends do!”

“I guess that explains why you have _so_ many friends,” said Martha.

Clara pursed her lips, then grabbed her practice bag and stalked out of the room. Martha breathed a sigh, then turned to Rose, handing her another tissue from the box nearby.

“The truth?” she asked, and Rose nodded, wiping her eyes. “Technically, you _are_ behind. But you wouldn’t have gotten in here if the judges didn’t see something special in you, and on audition day, you had it.”

“And now I don’t,” said Rose, miserably.

“Stop it,” said Martha. “It’s still in there, you just have to find it again. Find what makes dancing a joy for you, instead of a worry.” She frowned at Rose’s hopeless expression. “Okay, that’s enough, no more boo-hooing tonight. Get up.”

Martha got up off of Rose’s bottom bunk and pulled her friend to her feet. “Where are we going?” Rose asked.

“Ever since we got here, we’ve done nothing but take class.” Martha shook her head, determined. “Well, it’s about time we went out and had some fun.”

The two girls dolled themselves up and Rose took the opportunity to wear the strappy high-heeled sandals that made her calves look amazing along with a little red dress. They grabbed Mickey and Jake and headed downstairs, smiling and joking with each other about where to go since no one seemed to have any ideas.

They bumped into the Doctor as they passed the men’s changing room. He was wearing a band t-shirt under an unbuttoned short-sleeve Oxford and jeans that should have been illegal on him. Rose noted that his hair was damp and he smelled freshly showered, he must have been practicing. He spread his smile over the foursome like a sprinkler, then narrowed on her.

“Well, well, if it isn’t Rose Tyler,” he said in a smug tone. “I told you I’d remember. Where are you lot off to, then?”

“Dunno,” said Rose. “Just wanted to go out and have a bit of fun.”

He snapped his fingers. “I know just the place!” He swiveled around, gesturing for them to follow. “Come along!”

They exchanged glances, then shrugged and jogged after him. Rose didn’t protest, since they were about to goof off a little anyway, she could allow the Doctor to distract her for a few hours without feeling guilty.

The salsa club was just down the street, within walking distance of GBA. The lights were dim, the music loud, and the drinks were strong. The atmosphere was thick with sex and enthusiasm, with people dancing so close, there wasn’t a sliver of air between them.

The five friends grabbed a round booth and chatted while drinking their margaritas. “So, Reinette, for sure, you think?” asked Martha.

“Oh, yeah,” said Jake. “She’s been one of Jack’s favorites forever.”

“Clara, too,” said Mickey.

“Ugh,” said Martha, wrinkling her nose. “Boring.”

“Boring or not, Jack likes her,” said Jake with a little shrug.

“So, that leaves one girl spot open,” said Martha. “Doesn’t sound too promising.”

The Doctor eyed Rose across the table. She was playing with the stem of her drink, not engaging in the conversation, her eyes on the dance floor. He could see the longing in her gaze a mile away. This girl loved to dance. Maybe it was time to see if classical ballet was her only calling. He grabbed her glass and set it on the table, she looked at him in confusion.

“Come on,” he said, holding out his hand for her. “You didn’t get all done up just to talk shop all night. Let’s dance.”

She bit her lip, then grinned and took his hand, letting him pull her out of the booth. Jake huffed as the two of them went to the dance floor.

“What does she have that I don’t?” he asked. He wasn’t above appreciating an attractive man’s attributes, even with his boyfriend in Wales.

“Breasts,” said Martha, matter of fact.

“And she can salsa,” added Mickey. “Speaking of which.” He raised his eyebrows at Martha. “Care to show them how it’s done?”

“Now you’re talking!”

The Doctor spun Rose into him, holding her tightly and rolling her body with his. It didn’t take Rose long to adapt to the style of dance, picking it up by watching the other dancers and following the Doctor’s cues with ease. Her face was alight with joy as they danced, really letting herself go and having fun with the steps, shimmying her shoulders. He would have liked to say he didn’t stare at her chest… but that would be an outright lie.

Dancing with Rose was intoxicating, because it was as if a light shone outwardly from her, making those around them want to watch her. He could see why she was chosen for GBA, she had something special, and she easily lent that to him when they danced together. It was a heady feeling.

With one hand on her stomach, he pressed her back to his front, one of his legs between hers as they swiveled their hips together. He leaned down, his cheek touching her ear, her damp hair sticking to his skin. She lifted one arm and touched the back of his neck, turning her face to smile at him. He wondered if she could feel just how turned on he was in that moment. He wondered if she was, too. He wondered if she’d mind if he found out…

“Why isn’t all dancing this fun?” she said, her mouth close to his ear so he would hear her over the music.

“All dancing _is_ this fun!” he said.

“Maybe for _you!”_

He pulled her off the floor at the end of the song and headed outside where the air was startlingly crisp in comparison to the warm club. Rose stretched her arms high into the air, humming appreciatively.

“Whew!” she exclaimed, taking in deep lungfuls of air. “I needed this!”

“Thought we could use a break, I was a bit warm myself,” he said, coming closer to her. “Of course, that might have just been because of you.”

She looked at him over her shoulder, touching her tongue to her smile, the dancing and the alcohol making her brave. “Yeah? See something you like, Doctor?”

“I really think I do.”

He turned her at her shoulder and dipped his head down to kiss her. She responded at once, her arms coming up to circle his neck. The scent of sweat was tangy between them, making him think of bedsheets after a shag. The thought of Rose in his bed sent a fresh wave of blood traveling south and he slipped his tongue past her lips, devouring the soft moan she made. After dancing with her tonight, seeing her sensuality play out on the floor, with how well they danced together, sex was bound to be brilliant.

He was sliding one hand up her ribcage to test the softness of her breast when the door to the club opened and Martha, Mickey, and Jake burst out onto the sidewalk. Rose and the Doctor sprang apart guiltily.

Martha handed Rose her purse. “Come on, let’s go back. Jake’s wasted.”

“Let’s go to another club!” Jake said in a too-loud voice as poor Mickey held him up. “I want-- I want to dance!”

As their friends ambled down the street, Rose looked at the Doctor from beneath her eyelashes. “Um… I should probably be getting back,” she said. “Class tomorrow.”

“Right,” he said, and because he had no idea how to broach the subject of shagging after the moment was broken, he added, “I’ll just walk you all back. Have to be the responsible adult.”

Rose giggled and they started off down the street. “You’re not fooling anyone with that line, mate.”

“No, I suppose not,” he said, smiling. He tucked his hands into his pockets and discreetly adjusted himself. Perhaps it was for the best. Students weren’t encouraged to date company members, after all… Though he never had been one for adhering to the rules...


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Suggestive dancing leads to suggestive talking which leads to explicit action.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is NSFW.

In hindsight, going out and getting drunk when they had class the next day was probably not the best of ideas. Rose felt nauseous as her hangover pounded at her skull and Jake looked utterly green around the gills. Mickey and Martha were hiding it better, but their eyes were bloodshot and dull. Rose accidentally kicked Mickey on the side of the head during a leg lift and Jake started laughing so hard, he dropped Martha, which prompted a round of giggles from all of them.

Donna clapped her hands and stopped the music, frowning. “You four, down here,” she said, pointing in front of her, then putting her hands on her hips. Guiltily, they assembled before their teacher’s frightening countenance. “When you come here unprepared to work, it’s an insult, not just to me, but to the rest of the students and to the academy. Now, get out of my class.”

Jack assigned them cleaning duties that night as punishment. They had to wash the mirrors of all the practice rooms, eight in total. The mirrors spanned the length of the large rooms, so it was a lot of work. Not that they didn’t deserve it.

“Ah, it was worth it to see Rose get it on with the Doctor,” teased Jake.

“Oi, he and I did not ‘get it on,’” she protested, her face heating up. “We just danced.”

“Bollocks,” said Martha. “You think I didn’t notice the two of you having a snog when we came outside?”

“I’d totally forgotten about that!” said Mickey, chuckling.

“What would the other girls say?” asked Martha, in mock shock.

“It was just a kiss,” said Rose. “It didn’t mean anything.”

When they continued to tease her, she threw sudsy water from her sponge at them and the whole thing devolved into a water fight. They laughed and shrieked, chasing each other around the room. They didn’t notice Clara at the door with her practice bag. She’d come looking for a place to rehearse. She couldn’t help watching the four friends with envy. She’d never experienced close friendship like that… Silently, she left the room, to look for another place to practice.

* * *

“This is bollocks, Jack!” the Doctor burst out, jumping up from the chair in Jack’s office and pacing to the other side of the room where he spun around and pointed at the other man. “You all but begged me to come back here and now you’re denying me the one thing I think might finally help!”

Jack sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I’m not an idiot, Doctor. If you prove to be a good choreographer, I’ll be begging you to come up with new dances.”

“But you’re only letting me choreograph for the workshop,” he whined.

Jack crossed his arms. “I have to think of the company. You ran away before, when things got tough. And you’ve gotten so good at hiding how you really feel, even I believe sometimes that you’re okay.” He gave the Doctor a direct look. “But you’re not. Do the workshop, I’ll know I can trust you to stick around.”

The Doctor plopped back down in the chair, dragging both hands down his face. “You don’t understand, Jack,” he spoke into his hands, sounding utterly defeated, before letting them fall between his legs, his shoulders slumping. “I _need_ a project. Something to… get my mind off of what happened. Dancing’s not doing it, not completely. Maybe if I’m dreaming up new dances, it’ll finally get me to stop dreaming of--” He closed his eyes. “Other things.”

Jack came over and put a hand on his friend’s shoulder. “I get it. I do. And this _is_ a project. Focus on the workshop. See if it helps. Okay? And I’m here, Donna’s here, even Amy. If it’s not working, come talk to us. We _want_ to see you get better.”

The Doctor reached up and patted Jack’s hand, appreciative of the comfort, as always. He pressed his lips together, considering his friend’s words. Jack was right, to think of the company first. The Doctor had to admit he’d run away from his obligations and Jack would have been within his rights to terminate his contract. Instead, he’d let him have the time away, to get his head back together. He was grateful. And he’d show his gratitude by coming up with a stellar ballet for the workshop.

But first, a little inspiration.

* * *

Rose felt a bit like a spy, stealing into the dance studio across town. She’d heard about it from Jake, when she’d mentioned being sick of ballet. The teachers were casting for the workshop that week and Rose’s nerves were shot. She needed to lose herself in dancing, the way she had at the salsa club, and just forget about her poor technique and turn-out. So, she asked the girl at the desk to sign her up for a class that was “anything but ballet” and was assigned to a contemporary jazz class.

She looked around the room as she stretched. Everyone seemed familiar with one another, exclaiming happily when they saw someone they knew, hugging, sharing bites of sandwiches or muffins. It was so different from the stuffy atmosphere of GBA. It was a relief, it was exactly what Rose wanted to recapture in herself. That joy.

The teacher, a slender woman with a mass of black hair piled on top of her head, entered the room and called them all to order. As they started warm-ups, Rose was shocked to see the Doctor run into the classroom. The teacher greeted him excitedly, with air kisses on either side, and then he took a spot almost directly in front of Rose.

Instantly, her eyes were riveted on his bum as the class did hip swivels, first in one direction, then the other. He was wearing cotton practice trousers that clung to him in all the right places. All she could think of were two large, ripe apples, just begging to be squeezed.

Then the teacher had them all lie down and contract their hips, lifting them up and down. She stole another look at the Doctor and felt herself flush, watching him essentially hump the air. He was obviously wearing a dancer’s cup, but it made his equipment look extremely prominent. She knew she shouldn’t be looking, hell, it shouldn’t even be so titillating, she’d seen men in their tights all the time, it left very little to the imagination. But the Doctor made her heart quiver with no effort at all. He looked at her then… and winked.

_Fuck, he’s hot,_ she thought. And he knew it, too.

They all rolled onto their sides for leg lifts then. She snuck a look over her shoulder. He was watching her, grinning like a cat who ate the cream. Her stomach flipped and she turned her head forward.

For the next hour, while the teacher taught the steps to the number, they kept glancing at one another across the dance floor. By the time they were going to dance the piece the whole way through, Rose was so full of nervous energy, she was practically vibrating.

The boys went first, knocking out the steps with powerful movements, wrapping their arms around themselves with loud slaps against skin. The Doctor looked right at her as he rutted the air, leaving little doubt as to what he was thinking of. He was easily the best dancer in the class, his technique flawless, his jumps even more amazing this close up. Watching him dance was like foreplay, seeing his skin glisten with sweat, his floppy hair flair out as he tossed his head, his movement extend all the way to his very fingertips.

When it was time for the girls, Rose ran right up to the front row and danced her heart out, giving the Doctor a similarly naughty look, biting her full lower lip, as she gyrated her hips. Thoughts about technique and bad feet left her completely as she danced entirely for the Doctor. Sensing his eyes on her the whole time made her feel strong, beautiful, and above all, desired. It was a gorgeous feeling, one she hadn’t felt before, and it was utterly addicting.

The whole group mingled together at the end of the song, for a series of neck-snapping turns, then they all fell down on their backs, laughing. Rose felt fingers brushing her hand and turned her head to find the Doctor had spread his arms out to either side, far enough that his hand had landed next to hers. He looked at her and smiled around his deep breaths, his hand creeping closer until his pinky finger twined with hers. All her focus narrowed to that tiny point of contact and she found herself breathlessly returning his smile.

* * *

The Doctor changed into his street clothes quickly so he could have a few moments to talk with Idris in the narrow hallway before her next class. She gave him hell for leaving Britain, which he accepted with a nod of his head, because he knew she only said it because she cared about him. Then, he told her about Jack allowing him to choreograph a ballet.

“Get you!” she said with a proud smile, nudging him affectionately in the shoulder.

“It’s just for the workshop, though,” he said. “Like a trial period, so he can make sure I won’t scarper off again.”

“Smart man,” she said. “Just make sure you take chances with it, because your dancing sucks when you play it safe.”

He pointed at himself with wide eyes. “Me? Safe? Nahhh. Never.”

Rose emerged from the changing room then, carrying her bag on one shoulder. She smiled at Idris, squeezing between her and the Doctor on her way out, thanking her for the class. He followed her with his eyes as she made for the door, a thoughtful look on his face. Then, he smiled at Idris, taking her hand and giving it a fond squeeze.

“Great class,” he said. “See you around.”

Idris just shook her head as he trotted out after Rose.

“Rose Tyler,” he called out as the door slammed shut behind him. She halted in her tracks a few steps away. “We meet again. What are you doing all the way down here?”

Rose bit her lip. She’d hoped he might let her sneak away. Slowly, she turned to face him. “Look, I know we’re not supposed to take class at other places, but--”

He scoffed. “But what? But you might actually learn something?” He grinned. “I don’t care where you dance as long as you keep doing it. You looked brilliant up there.”

She smiled, her cheeks turning pink. “Thanks,” she said, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “I was just trying to get that feeling back… When we danced at the salsa club, I had it, and I found it here, too.” She shrugged, helplessly. “Why can’t my classes at GBA feel like that?”

He tilted his head, as though thinking about it. “Maybe because if you shoved coal up GBA’s arse, you’d get a diamond in five minutes flat?” She laughed and he grinned, liking the sound of it. “Have you had dinner yet?”

“Yeah,” she answered automatically, before realizing that the Doctor was actually trying to ask her out. Her smile melted into a look of disbelief, but the spark in his green eyes wasn’t a mocking one.

“Dessert?” he tried again. He held out his hand, the one with his motorcycle helmet, in what he hoped was an enticing manner.

She hesitated for a moment, but her pounding heart said that she’d always wonder ‘what if.’ So, she grabbed the helmet and settled it on her head as she came around to his midnight blue motorcycle. Settling behind him, she tentatively crept her hands around his waist, feeling his taut abdomen through his thin t-shirt, and a small shiver went down her back.

“Wait, where’s your helmet?” she asked as he started up the motor.

“You’re wearing it,” he said over his shoulder.

“But won’t you get in trouble?”

“I’ll just have to drive really fast,” he said, cheekily. “Hold on tight!”

Rose exclaimed in surprise as he shot out of the parking space and she instinctively wrapped her arms around him more tightly. If someone had told her when she first came to GBA that she would one day enjoy a ride with the Doctor on his motorcycle through London at sunset, she would have laughed in their face. And yet, it was happening. She was pressed up against his back, her chin on his shoulder, her thighs next to his, his bum lovingly cradled by her pelvis.

Somehow, they made it back to his flat without getting pulled over by the police. While he went to hunt for something sweet in the connecting kitchen, Rose looked around his living area, smiling at his pictures with fellow dancers. There were lots of him and Amelia, some with Jack and Donna. There were several awards and plaques hung up on the walls, but they were secondary to the pictures, which gave the room a certain life and energy. Like he was trying to infuse the space with a happiness that he might not entirely feel on his own.

She tapped her foot on the light colored hardwood flooring and smiled. “I like your floor,” she said. “It’s like you have your own stage.”

“Ha, never thought of it like that,” he said glancing at her from over the breakfast bar. “I just hate carpet.” He made a frustrated noise and closed his cabinets with more force than necessary. “I could have sworn I had some biscuits in here somewhere…” He paused. “Oh, wait, no… I finished them with tea yesterday.”

“That’s all right,” she said. “I’m worried about my body shape enough as it is.”

His brow furrowed. “What’s wrong with your body shape? You have a lovely body shape, in fact, I’m quite partial to your… shape.” He trailed off as she giggled, realizing he’d been rambling. If he could sternly wag his finger at his own tongue, he might have.

Her laughter ended on a sigh. “Well, thanks, but it’s not doing me any favors at GBA. Plus, my feet are terrible, I’m behind in my training, and I can pretty much never be a dancer, ever.”

“Jack said this?” he asked, surprised.

“Might as well have.”

“Well, then he’s an utter fool. I couldn’t take my eyes off of you today.” He emerged from the kitchen with two glasses of wine and handed her one. “Best I could do, I’m afraid.” He touched his glass to hers. “Cheers.”

Rose sipped the dark red beverage, her stomach turning acrobatic flips that would have done an Olympian proud. He was standing so close, she could feel the warmth radiating off of him, and suddenly, she was even more aware of what being in his flat meant. A surge of anticipation hit her gut, sending butterflies winging in its wake. His eyes were dark, the green almost entirely swallowed by the black pupil as he gazed at her over his wine glass. She set the drink on the breakfast bar, unable to finish it with her nerves on edge.

Immediately, he set his down as well. “Can I get you anything else? Some water? I could look for my emergency stash of biscuits, or I might have some custard in the refrigerator…”

She smiled at his rushed attempt to please her and shook her head. “I’m fine.”

He moved even closer to her with a slow smile, brushing her cheek with one hand. “Yes. You are.”

Leaning down, he kissed her softly, so much gentler than their half-drunken kiss the other night. He pulled back a fraction, tilted his head, and returned. He repeated this a few times, kissing her over and over. Her hands moved up his chest, settling one on his shoulder and the other on his neck, dragging up into his hair, which was just as soft as it looked. He grabbed her hips, pulling her closer. She gasped as she felt him through his jeans, growing firm against her. That was definitely _not_ a dancer’s cup.

One of his hands traveled up, tracing along her side and ribcage, stopping just below where she really wanted him. “Rose,” he murmured against her lips. “This all right?”

She nodded, taking his hand and guiding it until he cupped the full weight of her breast. He squeezed lightly and a moan escaped her as she said, “More than.”

He paused then and reached over his head to remove his shirt, tossing it carelessly on the floor. Rose was riveted by his chest, which was pale, chiseled, and perfectly smooth. Three little moles dotted his flesh, like stars. She felt an instant urge to kiss them, to connect them with her tongue. Her distraction broke as he grasped the bottom of her shirt and helped her to pull it over her head. His hands were instantly back, his thumbs caressing her nipples over the lace of her bra. He bent and suckled one through the fabric, making Rose hiss in a breath as he teased the sensitive flesh with his teeth.

Needing to feel him touching her skin, she reached behind herself and unfastened the bra, letting the straps fall down her arms. He withdrew and returned and the garment fell on the floor, joining the growing pile. He kissed her again, delighting in the feel of her soft chest pressed against his hard one.

“Bedroom?” she asked, with a tongue touched smile.

Grinning, he took her hand and pulled her into the next room. It was a dance of another kind, toeing out of their shoes while helping each other unzip their jeans. He admired the little shimmy she did as the trousers fell down, revealing her black knickers with a little lace edging. He swallowed as his arousal surged harder and his cock twitched, his boxer briefs uncomfortably tight. Not wanting to suffer them any longer, he hooked his fingers into the waistband and got them off.

Then Rose was on her knees in front of him, amid their various items of strewn clothing. An involuntary noise left him as she encased him in her warm mouth, his hand flew to the back of her head, tangling in her hair. He let her set the pace, but honestly, he didn’t need much, he was already wound so tight.

He let himself enjoy the swirling movements of her tongue for a few moments, then whispered her name and helped her to her feet. He walked her backward until her knees hit the edge of his bed. She sat on the mattress and worked her way back on her elbows, giving him a sexy, come-hither smile. He reached down and grabbed the sides of her knickers, pulling them off as she moved higher toward the headboard, revealing dark, neatly trimmed curls. He smirked, knowing that ballerinas had to be even more body conscious than swimmers.

With a foot in each hand, he kissed her ankles and calves, moving his hands higher and higher as he climbed over her, joining her on the bed. He was careful with his kisses, making sure never to nip too hard with his teeth. Pink tights wouldn’t cover marks that didn’t go away overnight.

He paused with his mouth just above her sex, to look at her, to gauge if she was ready for the next step. She was still propped up on her elbows, watching him, her eyes darkened to a rich amber. She gave a little nod and he indulged in one long lick from bottom to top. He wasn’t disappointed by her groan of approval. He rubbed his tongue on the roof of his mouth, liking the sweet tang of her taste, wanting more. He nibbled on her outer lips, sucking them into his mouth, opening her further, then delved his tongue as deeply as he could. She let her arms drop and fell back on the bed, writhing, her moans rising to a fever pitch as he circled her clit then sucked on it while sliding two fingers into her. He trailed wet kisses over her hip as he fingered her, his thumb rubbing the firm bud at her apex. His mouth moved higher until he could suckle the previously neglected nipple, tonguing it with firm licks, as if in apology for leaving it so long.

“Please, please,” she begged, grabbing his duvet in both fists, her hips rising with the motions of his hand and he guessed she was close.

He moved back between her legs, sucking her clit hard as he curved his fingers upward, seeking that sweet spot that would have her flying. Within seconds, her back was arching off the bed and she was calling out, her wetness bathing his fingers. He slowed down, helping her to ease back from the orgasm, and gently withdrew his hand from her. He smiled smugly, his face gleaming with moisture, as she took long, heaving breaths.

Leaning over to his bedside table, he opened the drawer and withdrew a condom, ripping it open and easing the latex over his now painfully hard length. The brightness was back in Rose’s eyes by the time he’d finished, tossing the foil wrapper over the side of the bed. She clutched at his shoulders as he positioned himself at her entrance and thrust home. They moaned in concert, eyes shutting against sensations so intense, they defied description.

He lifted one of her legs to his shoulder in order to thrust more deeply, marveling at just how perfect she felt, how her softly rounded hips and firm arse fit exactly into his hands, and when her inner walls contracted around him, every coherent thought drained out of his head. She called his nickname in passion and it sounded like music. More than ever, she shone with an inner light that he longed to capture, like lightning in a bottle.

Still sensitive from her first orgasm, she came again fairly quickly and it helped speed him along to his end, increasing the pace of his thrusts. Sweat dripped along his collarbone and down to his stomach. He looked at Rose’s face, her cheeks flushed and her lips swollen from their kisses, then down to where they were joined. The sight of him entering and withdrawing from her pink flesh sent another surge from his brain to his groin and he groaned, gritting his teeth, as his orgasm overtook him. She cried out again, tipping over into one last, smaller orgasm, and he grasped her hip tightly, holding her still as he emptied himself into her.

He was floating, his mind far away from his body. It was the closest thing to true bliss he thought he’d ever felt. It was that first taste of chocolate, a dive into a crystal clear swimming pool, learning how to dance, all wrapped into one.

When the moment passed, he carefully eased himself out, holding onto the base of the condom, then went to the adjoining loo to take care of it. He rubbed his legs and chest with a towel, then, thinking she might want the same, grabbed a clean one for her.

He paused in the doorway, seeing her spread out in the middle of his bed, the ambient moonlight coming in from his partially drawn blinds making her skin look luminous in stripes of light. Her breasts were heaving up and down with each breath she took, her nipples still tightly pebbled. He leaned against the jamb, the towel forgotten in his hand, his heart pounding in a way that had nothing to do with his recent orgasm.

She was so beautiful. So giving. And she scared him to death. Because the warm feeling surrounding his heart as he looked at her was only too familiar and the last time he’d felt it, he’d come away horribly scarred.

Smiling awkwardly, he pushed away from the door and handed her the towel as she sat up. She looked like she was going to say something, so he turned away in cowardice, heading for the front room. “I’m just gonna check my messages,” he mumbled.

He looked back in time to see something like disappointment flicker in her eyes, but then she nodded and offered a tentative smile. “Right.”

Out of her line of sight, he took a deep breath, pushing the complicated feelings away, then went for his jacket on the back of a chair to find his mobile. There was a text from Jack.

_Doctor, we’ll be starting with the girls’ class on Monday morning at 10am for casting the workshop. Don’t be late._

He rubbed his eyes with one hand. He had a ballet to choreograph. Now was not the time to get lost in whatever… this… was.

Hearing movement behind him, he looked over his shoulder and saw Rose was back in her knickers and carrying her jeans in one hand. She made a beeline for her shirt and bra and he realized she was preparing to leave. On one hand, that was probably for the best, but on the other… he didn’t really want her to. Not after what they’d shared, and well, he wasn’t completely heartless, was he?

“Hey, what are you doing?” he asked, coming over and gently taking the clothing from her.

“Well, I thought--” She looked down, biting her lip. “I thought you wanted me to--”

“It’s late,” he said, tossing the garments on the sofa and steering her back to the bedroom with a hand at the small of her back. “And I’m far too cheap to shell out cab fare. I’ll drop you off tomorrow morning in plenty of time.”

She smiled up at him and his heart thudded again. “Thanks. Got a shirt I could sleep in, maybe?”

“Yeah.”

He went to his dresser and pulled out a cotton undershirt, which he handed to her before reaching for jimjams for himself. Dressed in soft flannel trousers, he turned to see her in his shirt, which brushed the tops of her thighs. He swallowed, unprepared for how sexy she looked with her mussed hair and flushed skin, wearing his clothes.

He busied himself with turning out lights while Rose made herself comfortable, then padded back and climbed under the duvet to join her. She snuggled up to him, her back to his front, and he couldn’t help putting his arm around her waist.

She fit him so well. Another burst of fear surged through him, because if he allowed it, she could maneuver her way into his life with very little effort. Better to keep his distance. He stilled his thumb from stroking her stomach, which he hadn’t even noticed until that moment. He sighed softly. This might be more difficult than he thought.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Doctor is an idiot.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is NSFW.

Rose was full of nervous energy the next day as Jack and Donna sat with the Doctor and watched their classes with casting in mind. However, the nerves all got chased away as soon as she started moving, because she was still riding high from her night with the Doctor. Having captured her joy in the other class, it was easy to remember the way it felt, and danced solely with him in her mind. Suddenly, the steps were easier, her movements more flowing, her acting edgier. Martha commented on it afterward, asking what she was on and where could she get some. They laughed together as everyone nervously ate their lunch, only too aware that the cast list was due to go up at one.

She lagged behind as everyone else ran up to the wall where the list was posted. If she was stuck in the back of the corps, she’d rather find out with no one to witness her reaction. Reinette exclaimed with pleasure and instantly was on the phone talking in rapid French to her boyfriend, Louis, in Paris. Clara looked over the list, but merely nodded as though it was what she’d expected. Rose noted that she didn’t seem to have much spark lately, but had hesitated over asking because she was certain the girl would just snap at her.

Poor Mickey looked like he had to swallow dish soap, apparently he would be dancing alongside Clara in Jack’s ballet. Before everyone had cleared away, Martha and Jake came running up to her, all smiles. “Rose! We’re doing a ballet together!”

“What?” she said, eyes widening.

“The three of us, and it’s a totally new ballet,” said Jake.

“I mean, my part’s a bit smaller but still! World premiere!” said Martha.

Rose grinned, her excitement building. “Who’s choreographing?”

* * *

She stood outside the practice room after classes that day, bouncing on her toes a little bit, the white cardboard box clutched in her hands. Rose bit her lip to keep from beaming so hard, her cheeks were starting to hurt because she’d been so happy since that afternoon. She couldn’t wait to see the Doctor again, so she waited while he rehearsed with Amelia for the upcoming variety program.

Presently, they emerged with practice towels around their necks. “We can find some extra time to rehearse, if you--” The Doctor stopped when he saw Rose coming over. “Hi,” he said, awkwardly, with a glance at Amy, who lifted her eyebrows at him.

“Hi,” Rose said, smiling, as she held out the box for him. “Um, this is for you.”

Not knowing what else to do, he took it. “Thanks.”

“I just wanted to say thank you for casting me in your ballet,” Rose said. “It means a lot to me and I promise I won’t let you down.”

“Well, you were the best for the part,” he said. “Simple as that.”

She indicated the box and said, with a shy little smile, “It’s some dessert. So, you know, you’ll have some... for next time.” Rose hesitated for a bare second, then darted forward and stood on her toes to kiss his cheek. Blushing slightly, she waved, “Bye!” and took off down the hall.

Amy turned and really looked at him then, but kept quiet.

He scowled at her. “What?”

She held up both her hands. “I didn’t say anything!”

“You practically screamed it,” he argued, deepening his scowl and gesturing with his unoccupied hand which Amy had to dodge. “Your face is very loud.”

She scoffed. “Says the man actually making a face.”

He ignored her and looked into the box which held two dozen delicious-looking custard creams, and he could detect the scent of banana. He groaned. Had Rose really deduced how much he liked bananas just from watching him eat one for breakfast? Guilt settled uncomfortably in his stomach and his feet began to itch with the impulse to run. He held out the box to Amy. “Please, take these.”

“Oh, no, wouldn’t dream of it,” she said, pushing them back to him with the flat of one hand. “You heard her.” She put her head on his shoulder and batted her hazel-green eyes broadly as she said, sweetly, “They’re for next time.” She only grinned when he scowled some more. “And again with the face…”

* * *

Regular class schedule was halved then, with the rest of the time being devoted to workshop rehearsal. Rose was happy to spend more time with the Doctor, though she was determined to keep it professional, at least in front of Martha, Jake, and their understudies. She would follow the Doctor’s example, as he was keeping it all business as well, but he was disappearing so suddenly after rehearsal, she never had a chance to talk to him. She knew he was performing on Friday with Amelia and figured he was squeezing in extra practice.

She resolved to sneak into backstage to see him. Since she was in GBA, security would let her through, and maybe the Doctor would invite her over to his place again afterward.

On Friday night, Rose dressed in a flirty floral print dress under a warm magenta jacket and made it backstage at GBC midway through the performance. The Doctor and Amelia were onstage, dancing to a piece from _Stars and Stripes_ , with loud music by John Philip Sousa. Once again, she was captured by the grace of the Doctor, his turns always spot-on, always light on his feet.

He marched offstage toward her and Amelia took over for a solo. He looked at Rose in confusion as he grabbed a few tissues to blot his face and neck. “What are you doing here?” he asked, a crease forming between his brows.

“I wanted to surprise you,” she said, smiling. “We haven’t had a lot of time to talk. Not that this is a great time.” She laughed softly, but he didn’t join in. After a pause, she said, “You look great out there.”

“Thanks,” he said, turning around to await his time to go back onstage.

“Your pirouettes look amazing,” she added.

He glanced at her, breathing out long and slowly so he wouldn’t appear out of breath in front of the audience. She waited, but he remained silent, his eyes on the stage.

“Amazing and tiring,” she amended, with a smile.

He nodded, then marched back out on stage as Amelia headed off.

The ballerina likewise grabbed some tissues which she pressed to her forehead. She glanced at Rose, whose eyes were riveted on the Doctor, out to her friend, then back again. She fought the urge to smirk as she asked, “So, you’re a friend of the Doctor’s?”

Rose blushed. “Sort of.”

Amy bit her tongue and twirled back out onstage to finish out the number with the Doctor. As they bowed to the applauding audience, Amy glanced at Rose in the wings, who was clapping enthusiastically.

The redhead chuckled, telling the Doctor through her smile, “Oh, ho, ho… You are in _big_ trouble.”

Also speaking through his teeth, he said, “She’s just dancing in my ballet.”

“Bullshit,” said Amy. “She is two seconds away from tattooing your name on her arse.”

The Doctor chanced a look at Rose, seeing that the girl was clearly infatuated. Oh, that was not good. It might be a ten pound cab ride and a bus from good. Because Rose liking him as more than a one-time shag could lead to him liking her the same way, and he’d already learned his lesson once. Time to take drastic measures.

He didn’t really want to hurt Rose, but in the name of self-preservation, he exited backstage after the performance with one of the dancers from the corps on his arm. The heart-broken look on Rose’s face was impossible to miss as he suggested to the girl with him that they go back to his place. It was a look he was intimately familiar with. He’d never felt more like scum in that moment, but he could only think it was better to be the dumper than the dumpee.

So, why didn’t he feel any better about it?

The girl had no illusions about why she was coming up to his flat, she started getting undressed the moment he closed the door behind them. He couldn’t even remember her name. Emmy? Ellie? Emily? Elle sounded right, sounded like something an upcoming ballerina would say her name was. Like him, asking everyone to call him the Doctor. To sound more impressive.

He certainly didn’t feel impressive. He wasn’t even aroused, he noted with embarrassment as he removed his clothing.

Things only got worse as Elle had him lay back on his bed, intent on bringing him to hardness with her mouth. But instead of it feeling warm and wonderful, it felt… sticky. He wondered if she’d been drinking maple syrup or something beforehand. He closed his eyes, involuntarily remembering Rose’s mouth on him, how he’d been so hard, she’d had to stop before he went off early.

The memory coaxed his reluctant cock to full mast and Elle helped to roll a condom onto him, telling him to just lie back and let her do the work. He was free to explore her soft skin to his heart’s content as she rode him, something he normally enjoyed, but it just… didn’t _feel_ right. It wasn’t the ballerina’s fault, not at all, but his hand closed over her hip and suddenly he was thinking that the jut of the hip-bone was off. Then he touched her breasts and thought that the shape was off, the nipples too small. He couldn’t even lose himself in the sensation of having sex, because being with this girl just paled in comparison to being with Rose.

No, that couldn’t be it. He and Rose had had amazing sex, yes, but that’s all it was, just a really good shag. A mind-blowing shag. It didn’t mean that he couldn’t have sex with other women.

He stopped Elle and maneuvered the two of them so that she was on all fours with him behind her. He thought, maybe, if he couldn’t see her face, it would help. But even the _sounds_ she made weren’t right. He was no where close to orgasm when she came, even the feel of her spasmodically clenching around him wasn’t enough to help him along. He kept thrusting, but by the time she came again, he realized he was going soft.

_What? No!_ he thought, desperately. But it was no use. He slipped out of her, limp.

Elle dropped to the bed and rolled over, a satisfied smile on her face, obviously thinking he’d come at some point. He went into the loo to get rid of the condom, frustrated beyond all belief. He wanted to hit something. Was he really so easy to manipulate that he’d fallen for Rose so quickly?

He sat down on the toilet, helplessly remembering his time with her. Thinking back, Rose had always been open with him, genuine, every emotion readily available on her face. River had never been like that. She’d always kept herself somewhat aloof, wanting to remain mysterious, but it was really her keeping him at arm’s length so it would be easy to ditch him when she found someone better. Rose had hesitated to get close to him at first, for good reason. She had her career to think about, distractions were dangerous. But then she’d let him in and given of herself so freely. His first reaction when she’d shown up at the performance that night was pleasure, because he was glad she wanted to see him again. It was that knee-jerk reaction that prompted him to treat her so coldly, and ultimately what led to inviting a random girl to his flat.

He put his head in his hands. “Shit,” he muttered. He’d cocked things up well and good this time. He’d been so afraid of getting hurt, he’d superimposed River’s behavior onto Rose, without giving her the chance to prove that she was different. He should have seen it, he should have known. Rose probably didn’t have a manipulative bone in her body, but he hadn’t let her show him that. How could he have been so blind, so stupid?

Heartbreak could do that to a man, he supposed, but that was a rubbish excuse. And now he had to make it up to her. Somehow.

When he went back into the bedroom, he found Elle completely dressed and tying her shoelaces. “What’re you doing?” he found himself asking.

She smirked, like it should be obvious. “Going home.”

“You don’t… want to stay?” He realized how awkward he sounded, because he didn’t really want her to, but the expectation had been there. It threw him off to see it hadn’t been her intention.

“Nah, don’t like sleeping in other people’s beds,” she said, standing up and grabbing her purse. “I’ll catch a cab. This was fun!” She tossed him a kiss and breezed out of his apartment.

The Doctor rubbed his arms, looking at his rumpled bed, feeling lonesome. It only drove the point home for him. He wanted Rose in his life and in his bed, he wanted to dance with her and sleep with her, he wanted his face in her hair, smelling her shampoo all night. But first, he had to apologize and see if she would allow him a second chance.

Setting his mouth in a line, he stripped the sheets from his bed and tossed them into the laundry, then returned to the loo for a shower.

* * *

Rose went back to her dorm in tears. She tried to be as quiet as she could, since Martha and Clara were already asleep, but she couldn’t help her sniffles. Her nose kept running and she was certain she looked disgusting with her mascara streaked across her face.

“What’s going on?” Clara mumbled. The girl sat up in bed and blinked sleepily. “I thought you weren’t coming back tonight…” She stopped as she saw Rose wiping her face. “Oh, God, what happened?”

“Nothing, you don’t want to hear about it anyway,” said Rose in a watery voice.

“Rose, you’re crying, it’s not nothing,” she said in her typical, no-nonsense tone. Clara got out of bed and grabbed her flannel robe. “Come on, let’s go out to the common area so we don’t wake Martha.”

Martha wore ear plugs, but Rose meekly followed Clara out of their room. To Rose’s shock, Clara reached into the pocket of her robe and withdrew a few coins, purchasing an Aero bar from the vending machine. She came over to the couch where Rose had sat and handed it to her.

“It’s bad for you, you shouldn’t be eating this, blah, blah, eat the chocolate,” said Clara. Rose took the candy and slowly unwrapped it while Clara made herself comfortable next to her. “Now, what happened?”

Rose took a bite of the light, aerated chocolate, letting it crumble on her tongue, before answering. “I’m an idiot,” she said. “I slept with the Doctor.”

“You did WHAT?” Clara exclaimed and Rose hastily shushed her. They weren’t that far removed from the rooms where people were sleeping. Clara took a breath, calming herself. “Okay. Then what?”

“I thought it meant something,” said Rose, staring at the candy in her hand.

“After everything we said about him?” asked Clara.

“Yeah. Because he cast me in his ballet, even though my feet suck. So, I thought he cared about me. Like I said. I’m an idiot. It was all just in my head.” She took another bite of chocolate, but the melting candy did little to lift her spirits. “I went to see him tonight, and he left the performance with another girl.”

Clara sighed, running a hand through her sleep tousled hair. “Well, what you did wasn’t smart, but you already know that.” She frowned. “And what a bastard. It’s one thing to dump someone, it’s another to be cruel about it.” She held out her arms to Rose. “Come here.”

Rose allowed Clara to pull her into a hug, resting her head on her shoulder. She sniffled. “Why are you being so nice?”

She scoffed. “I’m not the Ice Queen everyone thinks I am.” She paused. “Well, not entirely. I call it like I see it.”

Rose laughed softly. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. Just don’t expect me to sacrifice sleep for you on a regular basis.”

“I won’t.” Rose lifted her head and looked at Clara, seriously. “Since we seem to be having a moment…” Clara made another scoffing noise, but Rose pressed on. “Want to tell me what’s going on with you?”

“What do you mean?”

“I think you know what I mean,” said Rose. “I still see you in classes for half the day, I’m not the only one who’s noticed you going dead behind the eyes. Donna’s giving you more notes about moving without showing the effort behind it. You’re dragging. Something’s bugging you.”

Clara sighed. She looked away, as though debating whether or not to open up, then turned back to Rose. “Okay, it’s like this. Ever since I could walk, I’ve been in ballet,” she said. “I’ve always been the best in the class. Now that I have a shot at being a part of a company…” She squirmed. “I’m starting to have doubts.”

“Like what?” Rose was shocked. Clara was the most confident dancer she’d ever seen. What could she be uncertain about?

“I’ve never known anything _but_ ballet,” she said. “What if I’m just going along for the ride at this point? What if there’s something else out there that I could enjoy doing more, and I just don’t know it? Ballet doesn’t give me joy, not like when I see you dancing.” Rose’s mouth dropped open and Clara gave her a smirk. “Yes, I just complimented you. It’s not hard to see, you really love ballet. I just happen to be good at it. And I think there’s a difference.”

“Huge,” Rose agreed. “So, what are you going to do?”

“I have no idea.” She picked at her cuticles. “I don’t want to disappoint my family.”

“Clara, this is the rest of your life we’re talking about,” said Rose. “You should focus on not disappointing _you_ , otherwise, won’t you just grow to resent your career?”

“I’ve devoted so many years to dance, though,” said Clara, uncertain.

“It’s your decision,” said Rose. “Just think about what makes you happy.”

“Right now?” asked Clara, sighing. “Not much.”

Rose saw the opportunity to return the favor and hugged Clara. Sometimes a friend couldn’t give the answers, but hugs were a universal language.

* * *

From the looks the Doctor was being given from Martha, Jake, and Rose at the next rehearsal, he guessed that everyone knew what a douchecanoe he’d been the other night. And he remembered (too late) that he’d invited Sarah Jane Smith to watch his rehearsal, if she wanted to. She evidently did, because she was there, seated in a chair against the mirror, smiling excitedly, like a teenager backstage at a concert.

He’d have to power through rehearsal. He could talk to Rose afterward without everyone being party to it.

“All right, let’s take it from the bridge, I guess,” he said, then pointed to stage right. “Rose, you’re here.”

She hesitated to follow his direction. “Last rehearsal, I was stage left.”

“Oh.” He looked at the other side of the rehearsal space and realized she was correct. His head was all over the place. But he couldn’t look foolish in front of Sarah Jane. “Right, well, I thought it might work better from over here.”

“Where am I going to be tomorrow?” she asked, tilting her head.

He blinked. He hadn’t expected this. “Pardon?”

“You keep changing your mind,” she said, standing up from her chair and walking toward him. “I’m just trying to keep things straight between us.”

There was a challenge in her eyes that irked him. Not that he didn’t deserve it, but he’d been humiliated in public before and this was just a bit too similar for his liking. “Rose, do you have a problem with saving the discussion for after rehearsal?”

He turned to cue the music, but Rose lifted her chin.

“Yeah. What if I do?”

He looked back at her, standing there with her hands proudly on her hips. This was his punishment. He hadn’t seen her before, not fully, for the beautiful, strong woman she was. Now that he did, it was like being hit in the face with the sun.

“What about what I want?” she asked.

He breathed out through his nose, then looked at the others watching the exchange. “Sarah Jane, will you excuse us for a moment?” he asked, then looked at Jake and Martha. “You two, go over the beginning section.” He strode forward and took Rose’s hand, tugging her to the door.

“What are you doing?” she asked with barely concealed hostility.

“We’re just going outside to talk, that’s all,” he said.

She jerked her hand free the moment the door closed. The hallway was mostly empty, a few people walked by the end of it, but other than that, they were alone. “What the hell do you think you’re playing at?” she spat, having the good grace not to yell and draw attention to them. “You’re my choreographer, but you don’t get to manhandle me around!” Her eyes filled up with tears and she turned away from him, scrubbing at her cheeks as they fell. “Damn it,” she muttered. “I said I wasn’t going to embarrass myself…”

“You were just saying how you felt,” he said. “You shouldn’t be embarrassed about that. And I’m sorry for grabbing you, I just didn’t want to have this conversation in front of the others.”

She sniffled and warily looked over her shoulder. “What conversation?” she asked.

“The one where I tell you I’m the biggest idiot who ever lived,” he said, spreading his arms out from himself, presenting the target of his heart. “I might be your choreographer, but I was also the man who used you poorly, and I never should have done that. Not to anyone, especially after the way I was treated. I was so blinded by my heartache, I couldn’t see all the good you were doing for it, for me.” He looked down at the floor, bowing his head slightly. “I am so sorry, Rose, I can’t even begin articulate how much. I know I don’t deserve your forgiveness, but I was wrong, and I hope you might consider letting me make it up to you.” He glanced up. “At the very least, will you still be in my ballet?”

She frowned. “I’m still mad at you.”

“Of course,” he said, putting up his hands.

“But my career depends on me being in this ballet, so yes, I’ll still be in it, but that doesn’t mean you’re forgiven.”

“No, no, no,” he said, shaking his head.

She rubbed her cheeks again and sighed. “And… I must be an idiot, too, because I’m going to let you make it up to me.”

“Ha ha!” he cried excitedly, coming forward with his arms outstretched to give her a hug.

She fended him off with an upraised hand, taking a step back. “One-- one thing at a time, Doctor,” she said.

He let his arms fall limply down to his sides. He probably should have guessed that. “Right. Erm…” He tilted his head back at the door. “Ready to get on with rehearsal?”

Rose sighed, wiping her index fingers underneath her eyes to clear away any smudged mascara. “Oh, I can’t, I must look awful. They’ll all wonder what you said to me to make me upset.”

He gave her a soft smile. “Let them wonder. I don’t care if they think I’m a horrible person. I _am_ a horrible person.”

“And I _am_ upset.”

He paused. “So, use it.”

She blinked at him. “What?”

“Whatever you’re feeling right now… use it. Dance it. I know you can.” He held out a hand to her. “And you don’t look awful. I don’t think that’s a possibility for you.”

She looked at his proffered hand like it might bite her, but at last took it and allowed him to give it a squeeze. It was a start. He led her back into the practice room and everyone looked up expectantly. Rose gave a small smile and Martha and Jake visibly relaxed.

“Sorry about the delay, everyone,” said the Doctor. “And it’s time for a radical announcement. I’m changing the end of the ballet.”

Everyone’s attention snapped to him amid a chorus of “What?”

He grinned. He was done playing it safe, with his heart and his dancing. It was time to start taking some chances, and also to start making things up to Rose.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Doctor and Rose rebuild their relationship.

That week saw not just a big change in the ballet, but in the Doctor’s attitude. He was noticeably lighter, happier, and more enthusiastic. He’d let go of being serious about the dance choreography, and encouraged them to have a little fun with it, to suggest things and try things. Some of it worked, some didn’t, but he never discouraged anyone. He was an inspiring choreographer.

No one missed that he paid rapt attention to Rose. Their chemistry when he danced with her to demonstrate a move for Jake was clear as day. The Doctor set aside time after every rehearsal to be with Rose, if she wanted. She made him work for her trust. For days, she didn’t allow him to get too close, she held him at arm’s length, physically and emotionally. For a while they just talked, sometimes they went for walks, and once they had a ride on ‘Sexy,’ which was his name for his motorcycle. He made a point to talk more about himself, to open up to her about his experience with River. He told her not to excuse his behavior, but so she would know that he’d realized his error and he’d never do that to her again.

On Thursday, she said, “I really didn’t want to give you a second chance, you know.”

His stomach lurched, but he continued their walk around the building without letting his hurt show. He would have deserved it if she’d told him to piss off after his apology. “Why not?” he asked.

She blew out a breath. “I had a bad relationship when I was fifteen. He was older, in a band. Really _cool_ , yeah? But he’d always get drunk and we’d have these screaming rows, he’d call me nasty names, make up all kinds of bollocks, like he’d say I’d been flirting with his mates.” She shook her head. “I’d dump him and he’d come crawling back, begging me to forgive him, saying he was sorry, but it would happen all over again. On the third time, I told him no for good.”

“I’m glad,” he said. “Not just because _I_ get to see you now, but you deserve better than that.” The kid was lucky the Doctor didn’t know who he was, his fingers itched with the need to track him down and beat his face into his neck.

“I know that now,” she said. “And that’s why I almost told you no.”

“How did you know I was different from the wanker?”

“When you apologize for something, it implies that you’re going to change the behavior that caused the problem,” said Rose. “My ex wasn’t interested in changing, he just wanted a quick fix to salvage my feelings.” She nudged his shoulder with hers. “You really seemed like you were willing to change. To not make the same mistake.”

“Oh, I was,” he insisted, then winced at his flub, waving his hands as if to erase the previous sentence. “Er, am. I am. Willing to change, that is.”

She giggled. “I know. You’ve shown me this whole week so far.”

“So far… so good?” he ventured with a dopey half smile.

She rolled her eyes, but smiled just the same. “You’re still not completely forgiven. But you’ve done a fair bit to get my trust back, and you haven’t given up when it didn’t come right away. That tells me a lot. And I wanted to let you know that we’re on the right track.”

He smiled broadly, his heart lifting. “Yeah?”

“Yes.” She pulled him down by the lapel of his jacket and allowed him a kiss. It was like the sun coming out.

On Friday, they went back to the salsa club after rehearsal, just the two of them, recapturing the magic spark in dancing together with utter abandon. The Doctor’s mind whirled with ideas for ballet as Rose moved with him, all sweetness and light, his muse.

It was after one in the morning when they left and walked through the parking lot to where Sexy waited for them. The Doctor paused, the helmet in his hands. “Would you, um…” He had to tread carefully, or he’d cock up all the progress he’d made so far. “It’s fine if you don’t,” he said in a rush, “but would you like to come back to mine?” Rose hesitated and he hurried on, “I don’t expect, er, anything.” He winced, realizing how bad that sounded, and scratched the back of his head, adding awkwardly, “Except, perhaps, a cuddle?”

The nervous churning in his stomach calmed as Rose smiled at him. She stepped into the circle of his arms, rising up on her toes to kiss him, carding her fingers through his hair. He smiled against her lips. He had his answer.

At his flat, they snogged on his sofa, like he hadn’t done since he was a teenager, moving sensuously against one another, without the intention of taking it further. It was sexual tension at its best, because he knew it would be spectacular when they finally came together again.

It wasn’t until later, when they were lying together in his bed, wrapped in each other’s arms, that he realized he hadn’t thought about River in days. He smiled and kissed the crown of Rose’s head. She kept his demons at bay. He hoped at some point he might deserve her.

* * *

The next day, just as Rose and Martha were preparing to leave the dorm for some weekend fun, Clara came back into the room, freshly showered from practice. She looked at the two girls, dressed in flirty, casual clothes with envy that was hard to miss.

“Where are you off to?” she asked.

“It’s Mickey’s birthday,” said Rose. “We’re going out to help him celebrate.”

“Oh.” Clara turned around, busily stowing her bag with her pointe shoes and towel under her bed. “Well, have fun.”

Rose’s conscience pricked her and she looked at Martha, tilting her head at Clara. _Can’t she come, too?_ she asked with her eyes.

Martha made a face and mouthed, ‘No!’

Rose tilted her head the other way, a line forming between her brows as she silently pleaded. Martha rolled her eyes. With a smile, Rose looked at Clara and said, “Why don’t you come with us?”

Clara paused, then turned around, the corners of her mouth turning upward the tiniest amount. “Really? I won’t be a fifth wheel?”

“No, I’m bringing the Doctor, it’ll be an even six.”

Clara smiled for real, then. “Okay.”

The group of six ventured out into London, boarding the London Eye River Cruise since none of them had ever done it. They had a tourist take their picture on the prow with all their mobiles, proudly holding aloft their newsprint cones of fish and chips. The girls teased Clara about eating greasy food, but she showed them by shoving a handful of chips into her mouth, proving that she could be ‘bad’ sometimes, too.

“Careful, Clara,” said Jake. “It’s like a gateway drug. Salt and sugar are addictive!”

“Maybe I’m just trying to find out what I like,” said Clara, with a shrug, but Rose’s attention was on her at once. “After years and years of salads, I have no idea what my taste buds can handle.”

Rose grinned and grabbed the girl’s hand, giving it a squeeze to say without words that she was proud of her for trying new things. Clara smiled back, her cheeks pink. She looked happier than Rose had ever seen her.

Later, while the others took pictures of the famous landmarks the boat passed by, the Doctor found Rose by the railing, staring at her feet. She was using the rail like a barre, as she stood in first position, trying to force her toes to turn out further. With a little smile, he shook his head and came up behind her, putting his hands on her waist.

“You never stop, do you?” he said, over her shoulder. “And I thought I was dedicated.”

“I can’t afford to stop,” she said, still looking down and frowning.

“You’re being too hard on yourself,” he said. “You look great in rehearsal.”

“Your ballet is _so_ not GBC.” It borrowed themes from _Coppelia_ and _Pinocchio_ , with the duality of _Swan Lake_ , but it was edgy and sexual. Definitely a big change from anything the ballet world had seen before.

His expression fell. “You don’t like it?” he asked, hurt. He’d changed a lot of it, based on her influence in his life. The thought that Rose didn’t like it was crushing to him.

“No, I do,” she reassured him, and instantly the heaviness on his heart lifted. “I just mean it’s different.”

“Good different, or bad different?”

“Well, that’s the thing, isn’t it? It doesn’t matter what I think is good or bad, it matters what Jack likes.”

“It matters to me,” he said. “Is getting into the company really all that matters?”

“It’s been my dream since I saw my first ballet film.” She looked over her shoulder at him. “And it’s different for you. You’re already in the company. This is my one chance. I have to prove that I’m more than bad feet.” She paused. “But, for what it’s worth, I love your ballet. I can’t even imagine being in Jack’s or Donna’s now. You’re an amazing choreographer.”

He nuzzled her ear, his heart swelling with affection. Her good opinion of him and his work was important to him, but her honesty was even more so. It was getting more difficult to quell his feelings for her, to take things slow. And he wasn’t sure he wanted to quell them at all, really. He knew their relationship was still a bit tenuous, but they’d been growing closer all week. After spending the night together last night, he thought he might be able to press forward a little further without breaking Rose’s valuable trust. “You need to get your mind off of this,” he said.

She scoffed, shaking her head. “That’s the last thing I need.”

He trailed the fingers of one hand along her jaw and down her neck. “I disagree. Remember, when you lose yourself in the dance is when you’re at your best.” He swept her hair from her shoulder and kissed her neck, smiling at the little shiver that coursed through her. “I have an idea,” he murmured against her skin.

“Oh, dear,” she said, but her voice was low and husky. “Will it get us in trouble?”

“Only if we get caught.” He paused, significantly. “Do you trust me?”

She lifted her hand to the side of his face and brought her lips to his, briefly. “Yes.”

He smiled and grabbed her hand. “Run!”

They ran across the deck and into the interior of the boat until they came to the women’s toilet, where they hurried through the door before anyone saw, and threw the bolt so they wouldn’t be disturbed. Luckily, they were alone, no tourists or school children were occupying the few stalls.

The Doctor backed Rose up against the counter, kissing her hungrily, while he grabbed handfuls of her skirt, bunching it up around her waist. Holding the material with one hand, he slipped the other into her knickers, rubbing firm, tight circles around her clit to coax her to wetness quickly. She moaned into his mouth, the vibrations sending frissons of sensation straight to his groin.

Rose pulled back from his lips and looked to her right and left, then groaned. “No condom machine,” she said.

“It’s all right,” he said, shaking his head.

He helped her to lean back on her hands, then lifted one of her legs so that her foot rested on the edge of the counter. Dropping to his knees, he ducked under her skirt and moved her tiny satin knickers to one side. From this position, she was spread wide for him, her pink lips glistening with moisture. He brought his whole mouth over her sex, drawing his tongue in broad circles, licking up as much of her delicious, heady flavor as he could. Rose bit down on her lips to stifle her moans, one of her hands going to the back of his head, grabbing his hair.

Knowing they could be interrupted at any moment, he slid two fingers into her, setting a rapid pace, and concentrated on her clit with his mouth, sucking and flicking at it with his tongue with quick movements. Wet sounds echoed in the small tiled room, seeming over-loud to him, but he was beyond caring. Letting go of her knickers, he brought his other hand up her body to her lips. Instantly, she opened for him, taking his first finger and then a second, moving her mouth up and down, her moaning muffled around the digits. His cock twitched insistently in his pants, wanting that attention for itself, but he was determined to focus on Rose’s pleasure.

Her subdued cries went high pitched as she convulsed around his fingers. He curved them upward, hitting her sweet spot to prolong the orgasm as much as he could. She held him tightly to her, crushing his nose against her pelvis. He was lucky he could hold his breath, but finally, she released him and sagged against the counter on a long sigh.

He stood up, smiling, a warm, smug feeling curling in his belly. He liked knowing that he could make Rose come undone with just his mouth and fingers.

She bit the corner of her lip as she lowered her leg back down to the floor and adjusted her knickers. She eyed the front of his jeans, which were obviously tented. “What about you?” she asked, reaching out to graze her fingernails over the denim.

He gasped at the sensation that passed through the fabric over the sensitive tip, his head tilting back slightly as his hips bucked toward her of their own volition. “No condom,” he reminded her. He hadn’t thought to put one in his wallet as he hadn’t exactly planned for this to happen.

She grabbed his shoulders and swung him around so their positions were reversed. “Didn’t stop you.” She knelt on the tile and unfastened his jeans, pulling them down along with his pants.

His cock was stiff and bobbing, begging for Rose’s touch. She didn’t tease him, she swallowed him down as much as she could, moving her hand over the length she couldn’t take in her mouth. He groaned, unable to take his eyes off of her. The sight of her sucking him off as she knelt on the floor, her big hazel eyes looking up at him, was sexier than any fantasy.

He was almost embarrassed at how soon he came, pulsing deep in her mouth, his hands tangled in her hair. He knew it had been her goal to bring him off quickly, but still. “You are much too good at that,” he said, breathlessly, holding down a hand to help her up.

“I _think_ that’s a compliment,” she said as she stood, bringing her arms around his waist and leaning against his chest.

“Sorry, my brain is mush at the moment, would you like me to try again later?” He gave her a lopsided grin.

“I think we should go back to your flat and _both_ try again later,” she purred.

His breath hitched at her promise and despite coming so recently, his cock twitched its approval.More than anything, however, he was relieved that he hadn’t overstepped the bounds of their healing relationship. Reassurance mingled with the pleasure swooping through him. “Best plan I’ve ever heard.”

They were startled out of the pleasant glow by someone banging on the door. “Open up!” came Clara’s urgent voice. “Please! Hurry!”

Spurred by the demanding tone, the Doctor hastily pulled his pants and jeans back up, turning his back to fasten them while Rose quickly unlocked the door. Clara flew through the doorway the moment the bolt slid back, blindly pushing into a stall, where she knelt and heaved into the basin. Rose and the Doctor winced sympathetically.

“Never been on a boat before,” said Clara, weakly, between heaves. “Fish and chips plus boat equals bad.”

“At least now you know,” said Rose, trying for a bright side.

“Uh huh,” said Clara, before honking into the toilet again. “No more boats for me.”

Despite the decidedly unromantic atmosphere, the Doctor couldn’t help but feel elated as he looked to his side at Rose. Catching his gaze, she smiled at him, reaching out and lacing their hands together, locking them like two puzzle pieces. _Maybe,_ he thought, _things will work out this time._

* * *

Next week saw the start of on stage rehearsals, so that the dancers could get the feel for the space and the crew could work on getting whatever set pieces there were on and off in time with the dances.

The Doctor sat with Rose, Jake, and Martha in the back of the orchestra level and watched Jack rehearse Clara and Mickey and the others in his ballet. It was a good piece, but standard as far as classical ballet. It would showcase Mickey and Clara well, but Rose felt badly for the boys and girls in the corps. They all looked the same, and would blend into the background, which was really the goal of the corps de ballet, but it was bad when a dancer wanted to stand out for the right reasons. The whole point of the workshop was to be seen by the heads of the dance companies that would be in attendance. If they didn’t get noticed, or if they did but because they messed up, it was unlikely they’d get a job.

“Hello, sweetie.”

The Doctor stiffened, a cold chill running down his spine, as a voice he hadn’t heard in almost a year came from behind him. He turned, as did Rose and the others, and saw River standing in the aisle, a newspaper in her hand.

He stood up. She was wearing her hair straightened now, instead of the riot of honey colored curls, but her knowing smirk and eyes the color of a cloudless sky were the same. Seeing all, revealing nothing.

“River, what are you doing here?” he asked, when he found his voice again. Rose stood up at his side when he said the name of his former paramour.

In answer, River opened the newspaper and read aloud, “GBC’s workshop will feature a new ballet choreographed by John ‘The Doctor’ Smith, performed by Rose Tyler, Jake Simmonds, and Martha Jones.” She folded the paper and smiled at him. “Very impressive, I have to say.”

“You didn’t come all this way just to tell me that,” he said, frowning.

She shrugged one shoulder, carelessly. “Maybe I missed you.”

“Oh, no,” he said, stalking out of the seats to face her fully, his face stormy. “I’m not falling for that this time. You think you can charm your way in here and I’ll fall all over your feet again?”

“Why not?” she asked, looking up at him with heat in her gaze. “We were good together, weren’t we?”

“Until you decided I wasn’t good _enough_ ,” he said. He drew himself up to his full height. “This area is restricted right now to _current_ members of the Gallifrey Ballet Company and Academy. Please leave. If you want to be here, buy a ticket to the show.”

River pouted at him, then blew him an air kiss and turned to leave the theater.

When the door closed after her, the Doctor slumped, rocking back on his feet. Rose caught him by his arms before he could stumble backward. He hadn’t even heard her come up behind him. He lifted up his hands. They were trembling.

“All this time, and she can still get to me,” he said, ruefully.

Rose came around and took his hands, kissing them. “Are you going to be all right?” she asked, looking into his eyes, her heart aching for him even as she tried to ignore the little niggling voice at the back of her mind that asked _why_ this woman still held so much power over him.

He pulled her into his arms and laid his cheek against the top of her head, breathing deeply. “As long as you’re here… yes.”

He kept hold of her while he waited for his racing heart to slow. Seeing River, especially here and now, was the last thing he’d expected. He’d come so far since she’d broken his heart, he couldn’t allow the brief interaction to shake him, not on the eve of his choreographing debut. He had a lot more riding on it than he’d let on. And certainly not so soon after mending things with Rose. He leaned down and kissed her, letting her presence soothe him. Holding her face in both hands, he pressed his forehead to hers and sighed.

“Thank you.”

She didn’t ask him for what, she just stood there for a moment and allowed him to take what strength he needed from her. She touched his hands, pulling them down between them. “Do you want to get some air?”

He nodded, gratefully, and allowed her to lead him out of the auditorium. They moved away from the dancers having a smoke break so that they could have a bit of privacy. He leaned against the building, pressing the heels of his hands against his eyes. Rose stood next to him, biting her lower lip and shifting her weight from one foot to the other, her expression full of concern. Suddenly, he laughed, shortly, and dropped his hands so his arms dangled at his sides, looking at her in self-deprecation.

“You’re probably thinking ‘what the hell is wrong with him?’ Right?” he asked.

She touched his arm. “I wasn’t thinking that at all.”

“Really?” he asked, half in skepticism, half in amazement. “After everything we’ve talked about and everything between us, my ex shows up to rattle my cage, does a brilliant job of it, and you’re not wondering if there isn’t still something going on with me and her?”

“Doctor, something _is_ going on,” she said, seriously. “That woman broke your heart, it isn’t something that just goes away when she does. Your reaction is perfectly understandable.”

He shook his head and turned toward her. “No, Rose, you don’t understand.” He sighed, letting his head droop forward briefly before looking up again. “I wasn’t upset because I was remembering how she hurt me… Well, I suppose that might be part of it. Seeing her shook me because she’s what made me doubt you. It brought all those feelings to the surface.” He wiggled his fingers next to his head. “All these insidious little voices were saying _run, run away, as fast as you can_.” He pressed his hands to his chest, afraid they might start shaking again. “I was terrified that I might bollocks everything up again somehow, simply for the very selfish reason of protecting myself from anymore heartache.”

Rose stared at him, contemplatively. They’d talked about his relationship with River before, but they hadn’t really discussed why she’d affected him so much. Seeing him interact with the woman who had broken his heart made her hurt for him. It wasn’t something Rose would wish on anyone. Out of everything, though, there was one thing that she wanted to know the most. “Do you?”

He looked up at her, his clear green eyes holding a range of emotions, from fear to determination. “Do I, what?”

“Do you still want to run away?” she clarified. Throughout the past couple of weeks since he’d apologised, he’d done so many little things to prove that he wanted to be with her. But would it be enough? Would that hold up against his instinctive need to protect himself, to run? Or would he build up his walls again? Maybe she wasn’t enough. Just like her dancing at the academy wasn’t good enough for Jack or Donna, perhaps her love wasn’t enough for the Doctor.

She nearly stopped breathing. _Did_ she love him? She’d been so busy, concentrating on the ballet, on her dancing, she hadn’t given a thought to her deeper feelings for the Doctor. But that small, flickering light in her heart told her that maybe it was already too late for her to pull out of this unscathed.

“Yes,” he said in answer to her question, and her heart gave a resounding crack. Then, he held out his hand, his expression so open. “I want to run _with_ you. Not from.”

A smile slowly crept across her face as her heart bloomed with hope. She laced her fingers with his, her skin tingling at the connection, her faith in him, and in _them_ , bolstered. Despite the fact that she only wore a hoodie over her leotard and tights to combat the slight chill in the air, warmth surrounded her. That tiny light within her flared and grew. “I knew I made the right choice to trust you.”

“No, you didn’t,” he said, smirking.

“You’re right, I didn’t,” she admitted and they both chuckled. “But I know now.”

He gave her hand a squeeze. “I trust you, too.” His gaze was unspeakably tender. “I know my heart is safe with you, Rose.” She blushed and he touched her face with his free hand, stepping close and leaning down to touch her lips with his in a gentle kiss. He stroked the apple of her cheek with his thumb. “Thank you. Again,” he said, softly, his breath ghosting across her mouth. Reluctantly, he stepped back, but kept hold of her hand. “I think I’m ready to go back in. Jack will throw a fit if we go over our rehearsal time.”

While Martha, Rose, and Jake rehearsed their portion of the workshop, Jack approached the Doctor in the audience, where he was watching to make sure everything looked good from the seats. Whatever Jack wanted, it was bound to be not good, since he was all frowny faced.

“You know we don’t allow press at the workshop,” said Jack.

“Of course I know that,” said the Doctor, his eyes still on his dancers. “I didn’t invite anyone.”

“Ianto says every major newspaper has called,” said Jack, speaking of his assistant, “and all they ask about is your ballet.”

“So, there’s interest!” he said, excitedly, bringing his hands together. The news chased away more of the lingering dark clouds that had been hanging around him since River’s surprise visit, even after his encouraging talk with Rose. “You know what they say, Jack, ‘there’s no such thing as bad publicity.’”

“That’s not strictly true and we both know it,” said Jack. “What are you up to? I know you’ve been talking with Sarah Jane Smith, she’s been seen at your rehearsals. She donated to the company, but not nearly as much as I’d hoped. So, what’s going on?”

The Doctor paused, then turned to look at his long time friend. “Jack, if I do something that’s bad for your company, but ultimately helps pull me out of the hole I fell into, will you hate me for being that selfish?”

Jack shook his head. “You know I couldn’t. Will you just tell me what your plan is?”

He opened his mouth, but then a thud onstage drew everyone’s attention. Jake had fallen.

“Shit,” muttered the Doctor. He and Jack climbed up onto the stage and pushed through the crowd. Two boys were helping Jake to stand up, but he couldn’t put weight on his right leg. Jack reached into his trouser pocket for his mobile and instantly dialed emergency services while Jake was helped into the green room. Rose and the Doctor looked at each other, worry and apprehension clawing at their insides. This was very, very bad.

Once Jake was safely off to A&E in an ambulance, Jack stood with the Doctor in the foyer of the theater to discuss options for the performance.

“River Song is a bloody albatross,” the Doctor groused as he paced the area, gesticulating in agitation with his hands, meaning the metaphor both literally and figuratively, since only a dead albatross was bad luck.

“You’d better start rehearsing the understudy,” said Jack.

The Doctor thought about it, and shook his head. “It’s Jimmy, he’s not good enough.”

“Jake can’t dance. You don’t have a choice.”

“Yes, I do,” said the Doctor, rounding back on his friend, his eyes bright with wild energy. He aimed his thumb at his chest. _“I’ll_ do it!”

Jack frowned. “Doctor, the workshop is for students. You can’t.”

He took another step forward, challenging Jack with his presence, going toe-to-toe with the broader man. The Doctor’s chin was tilted down, his forehead creased. “If you want your students onstage in my ballet, then they’ll dance with me. Otherwise, I’m pulling it.”

Jack crossed his arms, perplexed, as he looked at the resolve on the Doctor’s face. This wasn’t just one of the Doctor’s whiny tantrums, as he was known to do from time to time. This was different, he was being incredibly serious. But the man he knew would never risk jeopardizing the careers of young dancers, so there had to be more to it. “Why are you being like this?”

The Doctor wilted slightly, some of his bluster leaking out of him. “I need the ballet to be a success, Jack,” he said. “I wasn’t going to tell you til after the workshop, because I thought you’d be angry with me.” He sighed. “I should have known better.” He took a breath and looked Jack square in the eyes. “I’ve found something, these past few months. My inspiration. Choreographing this ballet has given me a sense of purpose, and I don’t want to give that up, but I also want it on my own terms. Sarah Jane has said that if she likes my ballet, she’ll fund my own company.”

Jack’s jaw dropped. “Seriously?”

The Doctor nodded, fidgeting with his fingers. “Are you upset?”

“Upset? I’m furious!” said Jack, but he was grinning. He came forward and gave the Doctor a big hug. “I can’t believe you’re going to be competing with me for ticket sales, you complete dickhead.” He pulled back, putting his hands on either side of his friend’s face. “I knew you’d find yourself again. I’m proud of you.”

He leaned in and kissed the Doctor full on the mouth. The Doctor’s body bowed outward, his hands flapping in the air as he struggled with how to respond, but Jack moved away before he could figure it out. His green eyes were very large as Jack grinned at him.

“Well?” asked Jack, lifting his eyebrows.

The Doctor furrowed his brow. “Like kissing my brother.” Scowling, he wiped his mouth on his sleeve and Jack laughed.

“Now I know how Amy feels.”


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The ballet workshop is performed and Rose is given a choice.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Final chapter! Thank you all who read and reviewed. I hope you all enjoyed Eleven as a non-Drunken Giraffe. This was a lot of fun for me and Silver, we may do another collab in the future because this one worked out so well. ^_^

When Rose came back to her dorm room after rehearsal, she found Clara sitting in the middle of her bed with her legs criss-crossed and her hands in her lap. She was shaking like a leaf. Rose closed the door and dropped her practice bag, then hurried over, sitting next to her and putting an arm around her back.

“Clara, what’s wrong?” asked Rose. “Did something happen?”

The dark haired girl lifted her head. Her face was streaked with tears. Instead of answering, she asked in a wavery voice, “How’s Jake?”

Rose frowned. “I got a text from him while he was at A&E. He’s sprained his ankle.” Clara looked back down and began crying again. Rose scooted closer, her brows drawing together in concern. “Clara, seriously, talk to me! What’s wrong?”

“You know what my first thought was, when I heard about what happened to him?” said Clara. Rose shook her head. Clara looked up at her, distraught. “I wished it was me!”

Rose’s eyes widened. “What?”

Clara sniffed. “It really made me think, you know, because that’s not a normal reaction, right?” She wiped her nose on her sleeve. “We’re dancing tomorrow for all the major dance companies, and I don’t even want to do it anymore. I’m _not_ just ballet, I know that now, I’ve been letting life just happen around me while I’ve been stuck at the barre.” She shook her head. “You’re right, Rose. I need to find what makes _me_ happy. I want to go to uni, eat pizza, dance _what_ I want, _when_ I want! Maybe even have a boyfriend!”

Rose smiled. She turned to Clara’s nightstand and grabbed a handful of tissues, which she passed over. “I’m proud of you,” she said. “And you found this out now, rather than ten years down the line. That’s good!”

“Yeah?” asked Clara, wiping her face.

“Totally. You won’t live your life in regret.”

Clara frowned. “But what about the workshop? I can’t just _not_ do it. Mickey can’t dance both parts.”

Rose giggled. “Love to see him in that tutu, though.” Clara laughed, and Rose was glad to see her smile. “Tell your understudy. Go tell her now, while she and Mickey can have at least one night to rehearse. Then go tell Jack. Because you know he’s gonna offer you one of the spots in the company tomorrow. He thinks rainbows come out of your arse.”

Clara hugged Rose. “Thank you. You’ve been such a good friend to me.”

“You’re welcome.”

She pulled back, giving Rose a real smile. “I hope he gives the spot to you. You deserve it.”

“I don’t want it just because you’re giving it up, you know,” said Rose, narrowing her eyes playfully. “But thank you, I hope so, too. All I’ve ever wanted is to dance for GBC.”

Giving her friend’s arm a squeeze, Clara got up and left the room just as Martha came in.

“Where’ve you been?” Rose asked, getting up from Clara’s bed.

“Rehearsing. You hear from Jake?”

Rose nodded, grimly. “Ankle sprain. He has to stay off it for six weeks.”

Martha winced. “Ouch. Just long enough to ruin his whole career.” She put her practice bag away and sat on the bottom bunk. “How are you feeling about the ballet?”

Rose sat next to her, pulling a pillow into her lap. Having dealt with Clara’s crisis, she was free to be as nervous as she wanted about her own situation. “Terrified. You know the Doctor’s dancing in Jake’s place. I don’t think I can do it.”

“Why not?”

Rose scoffed. “Because he’s the best dancer in the world! With Jake, I had a shot to prove to Jack that he’s wrong about me, that I’m more than my feet. But now, dancing next to the Doctor, I’m going to look like a total amateur.”

“Well, thanks,” said Martha. “I have to dance alongside him, too.”

The blonde snorted and gave her friend a look that said, _Are you serious?_ “Martha, your technique is amazing, you’re gonna be great. All you have to do is get a good night’s sleep and Jack will totally offer you a spot tomorrow.”

Martha took Rose’s hand. “Rose, you started dancing way before this workshop, and no matter what happens tomorrow, you’re gonna keep dancing after it.”

“I don’t know how you can be so laid back about this,” said Rose, resting her chin on the top of the pillow, trying not to sulk like a child. At the moment, it felt like her choices were either sulking or fear.

“I have to be,” said Martha. “We can’t _both_ freak out.”

A half-smile quirked Rose’s lips. “I guess it’s a good way of looking at it.” Her stomach was still turning flips and her heart still thudded whenever she thought about going on stage, but Martha’s point of view calmed her a little. “Tomorrow is just one more day I get to dance.”

Martha grinned. “Exactly. Stop looking at it as the day your whole life gets decided. Don’t dance for Jack or for any of them. Dance for you.”

“I can at least try,” said Rose, with a little shrug.

“Good. Let’s get some sleep. We’re gonna need it.”

* * *

A bare thirty minutes before curtain, Rose sat in the stairwell of the theater, a gray hoodie over her yellow tutu with pink embellishments and undernetting. She’d already done her physical warm-up, all that was left was the mental one. She breathed slowly in and out, her hands clasped on her knees, and she focused forward on a tiny mark on the wall ahead of her, imagining it as the little light at the back of the theater for the dancers to spot with.

She let all her tension drain out of her shoulders, let the thoughts of the open places in the company fade away. All that was left was the dance, that was all that mattered.

A hand touched hers and she startled slightly. She hadn’t even noticed when the Doctor had sat down next to her. He gave her a warm smile. “How are you feeling?” he asked. “Ready?”

“As I’ll ever be,” she said. She turned her hand over to grasp his.

“Listen, just forget about everything,” he said. “Just dance it the way you feel it. I know you’re going to be brilliant.”

She smiled, relieved to hear him say that he trusted her instead of coaching her to somehow be better. “Thanks.” She leaned her head against his shoulder. “Are you ready for this?”

He blew out a breath. “I hope so.”

When the curtain went up, Donna’s ballet went first, a classical piece with Reinette as the leader of a group of garden nymphs. It wasn’t hard for the blonde to outshine the other dancers. Then came Jack’s ballet that was more symbolic, about harmony and symmetry. Mickey danced well with the girl who was Clara’s understudy, and though Clara’s technique was still better, the ballet didn’t suffer for it. Mickey had a talent for bringing out the best in his partner.

The Doctor’s ballet was last. As Rose stood in the wings, shaking out her arms and legs, he came up beside her and touched her shoulder, giving her one last encouraging smile. She wanted to give him a kiss, for luck, for reassurance, but knew she’d get her lippy on him. In a moment of inspiration, she lifted herself up on the toes of her pointe shoes and nuzzled his nose in an Eskimo kiss instead. His smile became a full-on grin.

“Here goes nothing. Geronimo!” he whispered, squeezing her arm before bounding on stage to join the line of other dancers.

The ballet opened on a dance class with male and female dancers, all going through the same routine together, the girls in white practice uniforms, the men in white tanks and navy tights. They began dancing a standard group practice exercise. The audience murmured, this wasn’t what they had been expecting. Then one of the girls, Martha, broke out of the line as the music changed from classical to a modern song with a hiphop beat. She danced in front of the Doctor, her movements flirty, edgy. She took his hand and encouraged him to break away from the other dancers. His interest in her was obvious from how close they were dancing, sensuously, sinuously moving with one another.

The dance class faded into the background and then Martha and the Doctor were dancing alone onstage. The music had turned slower, softer, the dancing more sexual as Martha pulled the Doctor under her spell. His hand caught the edge of her white tutu and suddenly, it pulled apart as Martha twirled away, the white tulle and satin unraveling to reveal a smoky black costume underneath. The audience applauded. The music turned more ominous as the ballet dancers reappeared, this time dressed in dark costumes, ringing the Doctor in as minions to Martha’s shadow queen character.

When the dancers receded, the Doctor was tied up with strings on his arms and legs, the leads going high up and disappearing above the stage. He was forced to dance wildly at Martha’s command, like a demented puppet. He begged and pleaded with her to allow him to stop as he grew more and more exhausted, but she wouldn’t listen. She made him dance until at last she discarded him and left him, a broken puppet in a tangled heap of strings. The minions lifted Martha up above them and danced off.

The Doctor tried to move, but found he either couldn’t without Martha, or he’d lost the will to move on his own. That’s when Rose danced onto the stage, a golden goddess, her movements light and airy, her turns and leaps effortless, every extension of her arms and legs impeccably graceful. She danced a beautiful solo until she noticed the Doctor, lying at the foot of the stage. She knelt beside him, touching his hands and forehead, her expression full of worry and compassion. She touched the strings binding him and they fell away. Then, she kissed his lips and his torso rose up, chasing her mouth, his arms coming around her as he found life in the touch of her kiss.

Rose helped him to his feet and they shared a moving pas de deux, every movement in perfect accord. In the original ballet the Doctor had designed, he cut the strings himself and moved on, solo, then found Rose. Instead, he wanted to show that it was Rose who helped him find the strength to move on from the strings that had held him prisoner and that they would forge ahead, together.

The Doctor’s dancing complimented Rose’s in every way, rather than overshadowing her, and Rose’s natural joyous energy shone forth, keeping every eye on her. In truth, she’d forgotten about the audience, and it was just the two of them. She danced only for the Doctor… and for herself. For the sheer love of it.

The shadow minions attempted to encroach on Rose and the Doctor, but she danced them all away, pushing back the Doctor’s demons and keeping him safe. They finished their dance with another passionate kiss. The Doctor danced in ecstatic leaps and jumps, happy to have found true love at last, and when he returned to the center, he was back in the dance class.

He looked around, confused. Had it all been in his head? Martha was no longer there. But the girl to his other side took his hand. He looked, and it was Rose, dressed in a plain white practice tutu. She smiled at him. She was real. They danced together again, this time as themselves.

The applause was tremendous, continuing as the curtain fell and then rose again for the bows. The audience was on their feet, delivering a standing ovation for the Doctor’s ballet. The Doctor’s chest swelled with pride as he looked to his right at Rose, whose face was beaming with happiness. He squeezed her hand and she looked at him, giving him the sunshine of her smile.

When the curtain fell for the final time, Rose and Martha hugged excitedly.

“You were brilliant!” Rose told her.

“You were amazing!” said Martha. She turned to the Doctor. “And you weren’t so bad, either.”

“Oi, the cheek on this one!” he said, hands on hips, and both girls burst into giggles. He pulled Rose into his arms and kissed her again, uncaring who was watching. “You were beautiful,” he said when they pulled back, his voice low and husky. “Just like I knew you’d be.”

“I _felt_ beautiful,” she admitted. “I loved dancing with you… and for you. It was the most incredible feeling.”

“Same here,” he said, smiling. “I have to meet someone really quick backstage. You don’t mind, do you?”

“No, that’s fine, I need to change,” she said. “And Jack will be doing the interviews soon.”

He frowned. “I want to see you before then. Can I meet you in the green room?”

She nodded and they parted to get out of their costumes and stage makeup. Ten minutes later, Rose walked into the green room in a gauzey light pink sheath dress. Her eyes gravitated to the Doctor at once, looking quite dapper in his dark suit jacket. He was just saying goodbye to an older woman with graying brown hair, giving her an air kiss on either side of her face. When the lady left the room, he turned and saw Rose, his face splitting into a wide grin.

He ran to her, picking her up and spinning, laughter falling from his lips. Rose couldn’t help but join in. He stopped moving, holding her against his torso. “Rose, guess what?” he said, but didn’t wait for her to guess. “Sarah Jane Smith loved my ballet. She wants to fund my own company. I’m going to have my own company!”

Her mouth fell open. “Are you kidding me?”

He shook his head, his hair flopping over his forehead. “I’ve got dancers from Idris’ class scouted and I have a studio in mind already and Sarah Jane is excited about the whole thing!”

She leaned in and kissed him, happily. “That’s wonderful! Congratulations!”

He set her back on her feet and took her hands in his. “Listen. I want you to come with me. You’ll be my star and we’ll dance together, just like today, but for always.” He gave her his most charming smile. “Run with me, Rose. Please say yes.”

Rose blinked. Her instinct was to agree, she wanted to be with the Doctor, of course, but did she trust him not to run or push her away again? Her dream had always been to get into GBC… Could she, _should_ she give that up to believe in the Doctor? Jack’s words came back to her, then. Was GBC really the right place for her?

“Rose Tyler?”

She turned at the sound of her name and saw Ianto, Jack’s assistant, holding a clipboard. It was time for her interview. She looked back at the Doctor, his expression open and vulnerable. He held tight to her hands, pleading without words for her not to go. But Rose knew she had to choose what she felt was right for her and make her own decision without letting the Doctor influence her. Gently, she withdrew her hands and touched his cheek, giving him a soft smile.

“I’ll be right back,” she promised.

She followed Ianto to the small rehearsal room, where Jack and Donna sat across from a lone chair. They both smiled at her as she closed the door after her and came toward them. Jack gestured for Rose to have a seat.

Her world slowed as she took those last few steps and grasped the back of the chair. In that second and a half, she saw her career laid out for her if she stayed at GBC. The two people in front of her were amazing dancers, choreographers, and teachers. They also hadn’t believed in her dancing.

The Doctor had.

“Wait,” she said, holding up a hand. She took a deep breath. “Ever since I was little, I wanted to be one of GBC’s perfect ballerinas.” She smiled at Donna. “I wanted to be just like you.” She lifted one shoulder. “But I’m not you, and I don’t think I ever could be. Because I’m just me. Bad feet and all. And I think I like being me better than the idea of being perfect.”

Jack opened his mouth to say something and Rose pushed on. “No. Please. Let me finish. I don’t want to know if you’re offering me a place in the company. Because if you are, I’m not sure if I have the strength to say no. And then I would spend my best dancing years in the back of the corps, twirling a flower.” She sighed. “Because honestly, Jack… You wouldn’t cast me as a featured part with my feet and technique. And I know now that I’m better than what I could have here.” She smiled. “Thank you both, for turning me into the best dancer I can be. I mean it, I can never tell you enough how grateful I am. But like you said in the beginning, my best isn’t good enough for GBC. However, it’s more than enough for someone else. And the best dancer I can be is a principal in the Doctor’s new company.”

With a satisfied smile, she turned and left the rehearsal room, leaving Jack and Donna to look at each other in mild surprise and pride. Rose Tyler certainly had come a long way from the nervous girl who bumped into people at the beginning of the term. With an air of resignation, Jack crossed Rose’s name off the list.

* * *

Everyone gathered in the foyer as they came out of their interviews, including Jake on his new crutches. Martha and Mickey said that they’d been accepted into GBC and Jake revealed that they were taking him too, even with his bum leg. Clara told everyone that they had danced wonderfully. Mickey squeezed her arm.

“You okay?” he asked.

Clara shrugged. “I will be. I just need some time to learn how to be Clara.”

The Doctor asked Jake, “What did you think?”

Jake sniffed. “You were all right. For an understudy.”

The two men swatted at each other good-naturedly, until Jake threatened to bash the Doctor’s shin with the steel crutch if he didn’t watch it. Thinking of his dancing career, the Doctor wisely darted back and hid behind Clara. Then he saw Rose coming down from the stairs and ran over to her, the rest of the group forgotten.

He stopped right before her, his expression cautiously hopeful. “Are you with me?”

She grinned. “I’m with you!”

“Ha, ha!” he exclaimed and lifted her into his arms for a twirl. She giggled along with him, wrapping her arms around his neck. “You won’t regret this, Rose, I promise!”

“I don’t see how I could, when you’re offering me everything I ever wanted,” she said. “Starting out as a principal! Mum’s never gonna believe this!”

He chuckled, setting her back on her feet. “What more could a girl want?”

“How about a kiss from her boyfriend, before he takes her to the after party?” she asked, slyly.

Grinning, he cupped her face in his hands, his long fingers sliding back into the hair at her nape while his thumbs caressed her jawline. Gently, he touched his lips to hers, mobile and fluid, coaxing her to open for him, which she did. He stroked her tongue with his, softly, a shiver chasing itself down his spine at the little moan she made.

A catcall from nearby startled them out of their little bubble and they hastily pulled away from each other, with Rose blushing and the Doctor awkwardly scratching the back of his head. Their friends had all gathered around and began clapping for their public display.

The Doctor scowled. “Oh, all right, move along, you’ve had your fun! Nothing to see here!” He flapped his hands at them. “Shoo!”

The group wandered away and Rose took the Doctor’s arm, smiling up at him. After the performance and her speech in front of Jack, she was feeling brave. “You know something? I think I may be falling in love with you.”

His eyes widened, bright with elation. “You’re only _just_ falling?” he asked in a teasing tone. “I must be losing my touch. Keep up here, Rose Tyler, I’ve been in love with you for weeks!”

Her mouth fell open. “You have?”

“Absolutely.”

“Why didn’t you say anything?”

He looked at the ground, fidgeting with his hands. The reality of having his own company and having Rose be a part of it had him on a high, but he couldn’t forget the mistakes he’d made with her. And now he was messing this up as well. After blurting out how he felt so suddenly, a wave of shyness squelched his enthusiasm and he couldn’t quite meet her eye. “Well, I didn’t think I deserved it, after being such an arse to you,” he mumbled. “I wanted to earn it.”

“Oh, I think you will,” she said giving him a smug look. He looked at her askance and she clarified, “Now that you’ve admitted you love me, I’m going to have to introduce you to my mum.” The sheer terror in his eyes as he grabbed his chest in alarm made her laugh. Taking his hand, she leaned into him. “Not right off, don’t panic just yet. And don’t worry. I’ll be there to protect you.”

Despite everything, Rose knew it'd be a while yet before she trusted him completely. However, she was confident that they were on the right path, that choosing the Doctor was the right thing to do, and she had faith that they could handle whatever came next, together.

He smiled, proudly. “Rose Tyler. Defender of the Doctor.”

“Mm. I like that. My own _impressive_ title,” she teased, giving him a little poke in the ribs.

“You’re impressive all on your own,” he insisted, seriously. “You don’t need any bluster like I do, hiding behind a nickname.” He shook his head. “You just be you. That’s all you ever need to be for me. More than enough.”

She curled a hand behind his neck and pulled him down for a quick kiss. Smiling, he slid a step backward and bowed before her then grandly extended his hand in a large arc. She took it, gracefully placing her fingers in the center of his palm, letting him twirl her in a smart pirouette, then catch her in a dip. Standing her back upright, he gestured to the door.

“Shall we run, Miss Tyler?”

She took hold of the hand he’d indicated with and grinned. “With all my heart, Doctor.”

Laughing and swinging their joined hands between them, they ran outside to catch up with their friends, who were already calling cabs to take them to the party across town. Later, they’d sneak out and go back to his flat. Much, _much_ later, they’d be dancing side by side in the Doctor’s new dance company. Falling even more in love with each other with every step.


End file.
